


The More Explicit Side of Dislocated

by LonelyAgain



Series: Diary of a Dislocated Knife-ear [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Heavy Petting, Modern Girl in Thedas, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyAgain/pseuds/LonelyAgain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pieces that aren't right for the main fic, but still find their way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Road Trip, Day 41, 7 Solace, 9:41 Emprise du Lion, morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This bit is compressed into two SFW-ish paragraphs near the beginning of CH. 93 in Dislocated Souls: Skyhold

“I gave you fair warning.”  He glided toward her.  “You did not object.”  She looked at him, unsure of what he spoke.  “I have been exceedingly well behaved.  I have even treated your stableboy carefully, solely because he is yours.  Keep your hands and arms still, ma’haselan.  You do not wish to damage them.”  She was groggy, and lay still as he swooped down, capturing her lips with his.  Barely brushing her lips with his, at first, then a touch more firmly as she didn’t object.

He pulled back, seeking her eyes.  Long fingers traced her brow, her cheek, the line of her jaw.  His mouth sought hers again, still gentle, and very careful.  “You are never, ever to do such a thing again,” he breathed.

He lowered himself to his elbows, one on either side of her head.  Holding her eyes, he dipped and tasted again, this time sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips.  Asking for entry, then delicately sliding his tongue just inside as she opened for him. His knee found the edge of the bed, and it dipped under his weight.

“Don’t say no. Not yet, ma’sulahn'nehn.”  She hadn’t even considered it.  She lifted her arms to wrap around him and he inhaled sharply.  He shook his head at her, and capturing her wrists, moved them to the pillow her head rested on.  Eyeing her oddly warily, he released them.  Still lethargic, she left them where they lay.

He tore the blankets from on top of her, one-handed.  Groaning quietly, he lowered himself, full length against her side.  “Solas?”

He shushed her, and cupped the side of her face, kissing her jaw.  He slid his tongue down her neck, and she discovered exactly what was meant by “sensitive”, when referring to fresh skin.  As a gasp left her lips, he hummed in pleasure.  She moaned his name as he licked her collarbone, and he chuckled quietly, nuzzling that place where her neck met her shoulder.

Gentle teeth rubbed over her shoulder.  The sensations were amplified, intensified.  They shot fire through her, tingling and warm.  A hand threaded through her hair, close to her scalp.  A moment later, he slowly made a fist, an incredibly delicious pull that had her arching into him.  Her mouth opened, and she inhaled deeply.  His breath was there, lips nearly touching hers, as she took it in.  He closed his eyes, stealing it back as he kissed her again.

She moved, trying to roll to face him.  He ran a hand down her shoulder, gently returning her hand to the pillow.  She opened her mouth to speak.  “Shhh, not yet.”

Fingers trailed from shoulder, down her side, down, until he reached her bare knee.  The warm hand flattened against her skin, palm skating up her thigh, over her hip, and coming to rest at her waist.  Stroking up and down over the freshly healed skin.

He couldn’t help it.  He rolled over her, careful not to damage anything delicate.  Needed to pull her under him.  His arms tucked under her shoulders, elbows holding his weight. His hips settled in the cradle of hers.  He held her eyes as his thumbs stroked her ears.

One of her legs lifted, wrapping around his.  Pulling him to her.  “Yessss,” he hissed, rocking his clothed hips against her core as he captured another kiss.  Once. Only once.

His tongue slid delicately into her mouth, rubbing against her own.  He deepened the contact, then sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.  She started to pull her arms down, needing to hold him.  He froze, causing her to pause.  “No.  Move your arms, and I stop, ma’lath.”

She returned her hands to the pillow.  He slid his cheek against hers as he licked her neck.  His teeth found her earlobe and she writhed under him, a soft moan on her lips.  “Clench your hands, do ANYTHING to damage your delicate skin, and I will stop.”

He raised himself up, a knee next to her hips, his other thigh still between hers.  “I need to see you.  I need to see you healed and whole.”  He kissed her again, slanting his lips over hers.  She met his tongue with hers, and he captured it for just a moment, sucking gently.

Pulling back, he slid his arms from under her and grasped the hem of the shirt.  She was beyond objecting, breathing in small pants.  He ducked his head, hiding a secret smile as he pushed the tunic up to her collarbones in one swift motion.

Her breasts were bared to him, but he was more focused on the skin of her belly.  He released the hem with one hand, running it across her navel, the other still keeping the tunic up.  A lean finger traced the edge of something she couldn’t see, but could feel.  Leaning down, he planted a kiss in the space between her ribs, above her diaphragm.

Only then did he slide his cheek along her skin, closing his eyes in relief she didn’t understand.  Her stomach, the side of her bosom.  He was warm, so warm against her chilled skin. She shivered, but not from the cold.  He lifted his head anyway, concerned, and lowered the tunic.

He went to pull back, cover her again.  “Please.”  He stilled, moving not a muscle.  She was too far gone, and wanted him back against her.  “Kiss me, mor’ishan.”  She moved her leg, rubbing his calf with her toes.

There was no change in his face, but his eyes heated.  “With pleasure.  Yours and mine.”  He opened his mouth over hers, sliding both arms back under the tunic.  Stroking her skin, his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts.  She shivered, but arched into his touch.  “I see, ma’nehn.  Sensitive?” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against hers.

“Yes.”  She sighed the word, then managed to catch the edge of his ear with her tongue.

He groaned quietly.  “You play with fire, and it might play back.  We have neither walls nor time.”

He pulled back. The sound she made at the loss tugged at him.  She made it no easier, tilting her head to give him better access to her ear, her neck.  With a ragged breath, he took full advantage, nibbling at the lobe, lightly sucking her pulse.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer by tightening her thighs.  All at once, they were in firm contact, only thin cloth between them.  He could feel her warmth, and he could feel the effect he’d had on her.  She was damp.  She felt him twitch, and he nipped the lobe of her ear to her breathy moan.  His hand closed over her breast, thumb caressing the peak.

She rocked her hips, and he tensed, unmoving.  She did it again, and he groaned.  He wrapped his arm tightly around her lower back, trapping her against him.  He firmly ground himself against her.  She let out a small cry, trying to swivel her hips, but stopped by his hold.  He buried his forehead in the crook of her neck and did it again, shuddering at the sensation.  It had been so long.

He reared back, stripping the tunic from his body.  Shoving her borrowed tunic up again, he put their skin in contact.  Clasping her close to him, he rubbed his chest against her.  At the small noise she made, he gentled, stroking skin carefully against skin.

Words spilled from his lips as he grazed his teeth along her shoulder.  As he tucked her thigh closer around his hip.  Elven, in reverent tones.  Nadas, inevitable.  He pulled back, watching the gold threaded through her eyes darken further to bronze in her arousal.  Sahlin, in this moment.  Mala?  She didn’t know any others.

He lowered his head to her lips yet again, eyes blazing. “Ma’haselan, ma’nehn, ma’sulahn'nehn, ma’asha.”  Mine mine mine.  Punctuating the words with kisses.  His teeth worried her bottom lip, and he sucked it into his mouth.  Releasing it, she was responding with a gentle lick of her tongue when it went wrong.

They both froze as a voice called out from outside the tent.  “Ser Solas!  The Inquisitor requests your presence!”

He made a sound in his throat, almost a growl.  She felt it rumble as he dropped his forehead to hers, and then it cut off.  He raised his head, and his voice.  “I will be there shortly!”  There was bite in his tone.

“Yes, Ser, I’ll tell him.”  There was fear in the soldier’s response.

“I bet his name is Jim,” she said, groaning.  He’d saved them.  Solas didn’t get the joke.

  



	2. Not explicit, but since people want the wager...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short morning conversation between Dorian and Bull

“Hey Vint, what weird things do you think she’ll do today?”

“She’s recuperating, Bull.  I doubt that she will be up to anything.”

“Seriously?  I think she will.”

“She doesn’t go around trying to do weird things.  Perhaps people calling her unpleasant adjectives is why she prefers my bed to any of yours.”

“Actually, I think you prefer her bed.  She keeps you safe.  When was the last time she slept in yours, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Fine.  Care to make a little wager on it?”

“What kind of wager?”

“I bet she finds something to be annoyed with you about, does something that could hinder her recovery, and suggests doing something that should be impossible like it would be normal and easy.  Today.”

“All three?  Unlikely.”

“Then you won’t mind taking the bet.”

“What are the stakes?”

“You stay out of her bed until we’ve been back at Skyhold a week if I win.  Sleep wherever else you like, but not with her.  If you win, I’ll cover your tavern tab for a month.”

“Done.  I hope you have deep pockets, Iron Bull, because I intend to drink your money.”

The Iron Bull spit in his hand and held it out.  Dorian wrinkled his nose in disgust, but followed suit, sealing the deal.

“I think I’ll stick with you the rest of the day.  Wouldn’t want you to forget anything.”

“I would never do that.”


	3. Road Trip, Day 44, 10 Solace, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not so explicit. More sweet/fluffy, but definitely kisses.

### Road Trip, Day 44, 10 Solace, 9:41

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her in front of him.  “At least I can help with this.”  He undid the ties to her hair and gently fingercombed it out of the braid Briri had put it in.  Briri made herself scarce, smiling as she left.  She was probably not far, but Solas and Chrissy were the only ones in the tent.  It was a rare moment of solitude.  Chrissy had no intention of missing getting a good night kiss.  She’d not gotten one in days. 

She stood up suddenly, catching him off guard.  He still had one of his hands tangled in her hair as she stepped close.  With him sitting and her standing, she was only a little taller than he was.  She brought her hands up to his jaw, stroking lightly.  Checking his eyes, she made sure she had permission to do whatever she was going to do.  She leaned down, dropping a quick, firm kiss on his lips.    When she pulled back, there was disappointment, quickly hidden.

“This is a terrible angle.  How do you tall people do this?”

“Are you playing again?”  There was amusement in his tone.

“Hmmm.  I seem to recall that usually MY head is tilted farther back.”  He tilted his head so he was looking up at her, a small smile playing on his lips.  She rewarded him by placing her lips upon his again.  Not quite as firmly, and their lips separated slowly.

“I have a complaint, a chuisle mo chroí.”  There was no recognition on his face, to her delight.  He didn’t understand Gaelic.

“And what might that be, ma’sulahn’nehn?”

 “I didn’t get good night kisses last night.  Nor the night before.”

“Oh?  Did you want them?”

“I did.”

“Someone I know has instructed me that people should use their words.”

“Hmmm.  I was hoping my mouth would be otherwise occupied.”  She looped her arms around his neck, and leaned down again.  This time, she kissed his brow, and then slid to the line of his ear.  She dragged her bottom lip up its length.

“Someday, ma’nehn, I will get you alone, where there will be no interruptions and no listening ears.”  He nearly growled it.

“Of a certainty you shall try.  But today is not that day, a grá.”  She slipped her knees onto the cot, one on either side, straddling his lap.  She knew she was teasing him. She was barely kissing him, and they were both fully dressed.  “You’re a big boy.  You can handle it.”  She’d whispered that last, barely audibly, in his ear.

His hands had been resting lightly on her hips, but at that, his arms came around her.  Pulling her tightly to him, he nipped at her jaw.  She moved her mouth back to his, and their tongues danced a long moment.  She ran her nails gently over his scalp, bemoaning his lack of hair. She muttered that he desperately needed something for her to pull.  He murmured “Maybe someday,” between kisses.  He followed up with “but I love that you have it.”  He still had his arms around her waist, and her hair was long enough he could tangle it in his fingers.  He used it to gently pull her head back, sliding his mouth down to the pulse at her neck.  “I want to mark you here, sulehn.  Someday, I will, and they will know you for mine.”  He was muttering.  She was not entirely sure he realized he was speaking aloud.

He laid back, her still with arms about his neck.  She was full atop him, straddling his hips.  His torso was longer than hers, and her lips ended up at his neck.  Taking full advantage, she licked his throat, murmuring.  “Perhaps I would mark you as well.  Someday.”  He sucked in a breath.  “You don’t have my issues.  I could leave love bites anywhere I wished.”  She brushed her teeth against his pulse.  “But that wouldn’t be fair, now would it.”

She slid her body up his, reaching his lips.  “Thank you for the kisses, mor’ishan.” 

“I enjoyed them myself.”  He captured her lips again.  “But who said we were done?”

They settled into sweet, gentle kisses, and delicate caresses.  Easing back from intensity.  They heard movement outside the tent, and Chrissy sat up.  He followed suit, smiling at the state of her hair.  “I had better repair this, ma’nehn.”  He buried his hands back in her hair, easing the tangles.  When Briri came back in, they were innocently sitting together, looking only slightly kissed.  The attendant smiled to herself.


	4. Skyhold, Day 7, 18 Solace, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of skipped over at the beginning of the chapter to come.

She pulled her hand free and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “It’s been ten minutes, and still my lips are unkissed.  You aren’t good at hints, are you.”

A small smile in return.  “Perhaps not.”

“Do you have objections to kisses?”

“Certainly not.”  Smirking.  He was baiting her.  Waiting.  Foolish wolf, inviting her to play.  He will learn.  She smiled, and he inhaled slowly and deeply, but didn’t say anything.  He placed an arm along the back of the couch, and the other hand on the armrest, looking relaxed.  The way he crossed his ankles and stretched out his legs gave him away.  He was not anywhere close to relaxed.

She put her knees on the couch, then reached a hand out, tracing his brow, his jaw.  A thumb across his lip.  Pulling her skirt to the side, she slid one knee over his lap, straddling him.  “Hi,” she said softly.

He held her eyes.  “Hello, Chrysopal.”

She leaned forward and delicately nipped at the dimple in his chin.  She placed her hands on the backs of his and then traced her fingers up to his shoulders.  Gentle circles where his shoulder met the column of his throat.  She ran her other hand over his scalp, lightly grazing it with her nails.  His hand twitched, and she smiled.

Leaning forward again, she dragged her bottom lip over the line of his jaw, little kisses and light nips as she went.  “I adore the sharp angles of your face, mo chroí.”  She settled her hips more securely over the ridge of him and smoothed her hand back over his scalp.  Moving his head to the side, she exposed his throat, grazing teeth over the tendon there.  He inhaled sharply, tensing.   “No?”

“Fenedhis, Asha. Vin.”  His arms moved toward her for just a second before he regained himself.  

She moved up his throat and caught the barely-there lobe of his ear between her teeth.  Her hands slid over his chest, around him, and back.  Back up until her palms rested on his shoulders.  His hands were clenched, one in a fist on the back of the couch, the other making sharp indents in the arm.  She chuckled lightly, then gently placed the briefest of kisses on his lips.  She caught his eyes, licking her lips.  He licked his.  She kissed him again, lightly but lingering.  

She slid off his lap, standing suddenly, evading the arms that reached for her.  “Thank you.  I needed a kiss or two,” she purred from too far away.

He made a sound in his throat, and smoothly stood.  “Is that all you wanted?”  His voice was rough, face lightly flushed, eyes dilated.  She lifted a shoulder and he prowled toward her.  Before she was finished shrugging at him, he snatched her up.  Pressing her back against the wall, he nearly growled at her.  “I want more, ma’nehn.  Much more.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew one leg up his.  She spoke in his ear.  “Who’s stopping you?  There are limits, mo chuisle, but you haven’t reached them.”

He wrapped his fingers around her smooth thigh, pulling her tighter against him.  She could feel him throbbing.  He fisted his other hand in her hair, pulling her head to the side.  “Be warned.  Two can play.” He lowered his lips to her neck, placing a chaste kiss on her pulse.  “Tell me these limits.”

“Our smallclothes stay on.”

“Do they?”  He slid his lips back and forth, leaving damp skin, then pulled back and blew gently.  She shivered at the sensation of cold.  “Oh, haselan’udh, I am looking forward to the day you are healed.  I have so much to show you.”  He bit lightly on the spot, then laved it with his tongue.  The warmth of his mouth after the cold air curled down her spine, and she breathed in deeply.  “Any other rules I should be aware of?” he asked as he ran the tip of his fingers over her ear.

She opened her mouth to respond and he covered it with his own.  Once, twice he brushed his lips against hers before sweeping her bottom lip with his tongue.  “I have rules of my own.  Anywhere you touch, I can touch.  I will not remove any of your clothing, ma’asha, without permission.”  He bent his head, flattening his tongue and sweeping it from her pulse to her jaw.  He blew again, cool air over the damp.  “Someone I know likes that.  I will ask you, with words, if I can remove an item.  And Chrissy?”

She opened her eyes.  “A grá?”

He lowered his voice, “You will say yes.”

She pulled his head down.  “Too much talking,” she nearly snarled, and put her mouth to his.  He tangled his tongue with hers while he slid his fingers up her thigh, gaining a handful of soft flesh.  He moved his head back to her neck, sucking lightly, and she moaned.

“I need…”  He muttered it, then lost his train of thought as she pulled herself up with her arms and ensnared his ear.  He leaned into her attentions, then pulled her away from the wall.  Her toe scraped the floor.  Releasing her ass, his hands went to the robe.  He opened it and pushed it off her shoulders, leaving it on her arms.

“I thought…”

“I have not removed it.”  He spun her, so he was at her back.  He grasped her throat with his hand, pulling her against him.  Lips teased her shoulder, then teeth nipped it.  A tongue soothed the bite.  “Take it off, asha.”  He moved his lips across her skin to the nape of her neck, teasing the edges of the straps of her gown.  Her arms were trapped.  If she wanted to touch him, she had to let the robe drop.  And she did.  She got her arms up to his head, holding him to her as he nibbled and suckled her skin, tasting as he went.

“Solas,” she groaned.  “Please.”

“Name it.”

“I want to touch you.”

“Vin, ma’nehn.  But I want you under me first.”  He stepped back, winding her hair around his wrist.  “I love your hair.”  He used it to pull her head back, gently, and whispered in her ear.  “Invite me to your bed, and you may touch anything you want.” He followed the whisper with his tongue, then sucked the edge into his mouth.  She let out a breathy squeak, and he chuckled.  “Do you want me in your bed?”

“Yessss.”  She breathed it.  “Come to bed, mor’ishan.  And leave the tunic here.”

“Ma nuvenin.”  He unwound her hair from his wrist and stepped back.  She looked over her shoulder.  He met her eyes.  She turned to face him.  They stood like that for a moment, then she licked her lips.  Slowly.  He pulled the tunic over his head and tossed it to the couch.  “Now, where were we.”

She lifted a finger and beckoned as she backed away.  He followed, heated eyes on her face, moving from her lips to her eyes and back.  She backed into her bed, then shifted to her knees upon it, still facing him.  She held up her arms, and he went to her, letting her embrace him.  

Bearing her back, he settled his hips between her thighs, and closed his eyes.  His elbows held him over her, and he made a small groan as she shifted a hair.  He was breathing deeply when she ran her hands over his bare back.  Her eyes had closed, enjoying the sensation of his skin.  Her hands were still more sensitive than she had expected, and the feel of him was intoxicating.  She curled her fingers and ran her nails down his back.  He moaned and reared back, kneeling.

Her legs were splayed over his knees, and he placed his hands on her thighs.  “It’s a beautiful gown, ma’nehn.”  He slid his hands to her hips, nails just brushing her skin, taking the gown with them.  She shivered.  “I want to see it on the floor.  Sit up.”

She did.  Her legs naturally closed around his waist for stability.  He kissed her eyes, then plundered her mouth, stealing her breath for his own.  His hands gathered the gown as they moved up her body, caressing the soft skin they found.  When it was bunched below her breasts, he pulled back and caught her glazed eyes.  “I wait, ma’lath, for just one word.”

“Yes, ma’fen,” she breathed, capturing his lips again.  He broke the kiss and she raised her arms so he could pull the gown over her head.  It hit the mirror when he tossed it.

He pushed her shoulders so she fell back, and looked his fill.  She trembled as he brushed his fingers over the new skin, still sensitive, and filled his hands.  He bent forward, enveloping the peak of one in warmth, curling his tongue around the nipple.  He released it with a small pop, and gave the other one the same attention.  Looking up, he slid up.  He nipped her shoulder as he passed, and ran his tongue up her ear.  “That’s twice, ma’nehn.”

“Twice?”  She was adorably confused, and he grazed his teeth on her chin.

“Yes.  Twice.  Kiss me again.”  She explored his mouth, sliding her hands over his body, tightening her legs.  He groaned at her mouth.  She felt him against her, twitching, and she rocked her hips.  “Not yet.  Not yet.” he muttered, adding phrases in his native tongue.  Stretched out, he leaned to the side.   

He ran his palm over her belly, then down her hips.  Traced the waistline of her smallclothes.  Brushing the fabric with the back of his his fingers.  One finger dipped beneath.  “Tell me to stop, and I will.” A second digit joined the first, just teasing at the edge.  

She pulled his mouth to hers for a deep kiss.  “They stay on,” she said, when they came up for air.  

“That leaves much room,” he said at her lips, and slipped another finger under the edge.  They teased the crease between her hip and thigh.  “I want to touch, Chrissy.” His fingers flirted with her curls.  He left kisses over her chest, then nibbled her neck.

“Okay.”  He slid his palm over her mound, then froze as fingers flirted with his waistband.  “What’s sauce for the gander is good for the goose.”  He kissed her, permission, and ran a finger along her seam.  She opened like a flower under his hand, as he ran expert fingers over her core.  

Her hand slipped around to his front, the back to his belly.  She plunged in, grasping him firmly.  He gasped.  Her fingers were chilly, and the sensation was almost too much.  She pumped her hand, then again, running her thumb over the slit at the tip.  He groaned and pulled her hand away.  “That way leads to me…”  He pinned it above her head, and slipped a finger inside her.  She bucked under him, rolling her hips. He groaned as she raked her nails down his back with her free hand.  She played with him, fingers and lips, as he moved in and out of her.

A second finger joined the first.  “You are so…”  He couldn’t speak so she could understand.  Words spilled from his lips as his thumb brushed her clit.  Over and over, he played with her, taking her higher.  His lips traversed her.  Her lips, her breasts, the tips of her ears.  Pausing when she caught something sensitive with her mouth.  She made a noise low in her throat.

She pulled his hand away from her, rolling him onto his back.  Her hips settled over his before he realized what she planned.  She rocked against his clothed member, taking the friction she so desperately needed.  Her face was flushed, lips swollen, as she threw her head back.  His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as she leaned forward and bit his chest.  He hissed, but not in pain.  She closed her lips around his nipple, sucking strongly.  “Chrissy,” he moaned.

He flipped them again, wrapping his arms around her and pushing himself hard against her.  Both panting, they moved in a parody of copulation, until Chrissy tensed beneath him.  He fastened his lips on hers as she crested.  Three more thrusts and he followed her, collapsing against her.

They exchanged gentle kisses as they calmed.  Caresses and cuddles.  “I will return, Chrysopal.  Stay here.”  He left, and came back shortly after, returning to her arms.  He was still breathing heavily.  

He held her tightly to him, like he was afraid she’d leave. “I’m here, a grá.”  She slipped her arms under his shoulders and curled them back, holding him close.


	5. Skyhold, Day 19, 30 Solace, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little out of control.

###  **Skyhold, Day 19, 30 Solace, 9:41**

“Something you want, mo chroí?”

“You have no idea.”  

“Sit or stand or lay down?”

She’d caught him off guard.  “Excuse me?”

“Choose, Solas.”

“Sit.”  She pushed him back until his legs hit the settee, and he sat reflexively.

She put one knee on either side of his legs, settling on him.  His hands fell naturally to her thighs.  “Ten minutes, my love.  I grant you ten minutes of playtime.”  

“Then I would be a fool to waste it.” He said that, but he didn’t move.  

She tilted her head to the side.  “Solas?”

He smiled, and there was something in his eyes.  She knew, then, that she’d dropped a thread.  But she didn’t know which one.  He gathered the hem of her nightgown in a fist.  “This is in my way, Haselan’udh.”  His other hand traced her jaw, distracting little circles.  His eyes hadn’t left hers.  He leaned forward, just a bit, to murmur in her ear.  “Take it off.”  His cheek brushed against hers lightly as he sat back and waited.

“You’re the one who doesn’t like its presence.  If you want something off…  I won’t stop you.”  She hadn’t quite finished when he whipped it over her head.  One of his hands wrapped itself in her hair, gently moving her head where he wanted it. Tilted slightly to the left, chin slightly up.  Her throat was bared and pulse exposed.  One of her hands was on the arm of the couch, the other on her thigh.  Their eyes stayed linked.  The hand was like rock, keeping her in place when she tried to move.  He looked for signs of fear when she couldn’t, but there was only curiosity.

His smile turned predatory.  And his other hand moved.  His fingers traced the curve of her lips.  When she parted them to take a breath, they dipped just inside, dragging along the damp bottom lip.  There was no magic, but a sweet ache followed in their wake.  He withdrew them, exploring the outlines of her face.  Nose and cheeks, the sockets of her eyes.  He didn’t touch her ears.  Her eyes had darkened, her skin flushing.  They hadn’t even kissed, and the passion was rising.

Languid strokes over her neck, fingertips dragging across her upper chest.  His thumb explored the hollows of her collarbone, slid over the curve of her shoulder.  A single fingertip slid down her breast, exploring the curve.  His hand hefted the weight, thumb brushing over the areola, avoiding the peak.  Letting it down, a fingertip went in circles, around the darker center, never quite touching the nipple.  She was breathing more heavily.

“Solas…”

His eyes still hadn’t left hers.  “Shhhh.  Let me play.”

“I can’t take ten minutes of this.”

“Oh, you could,” he murmured, a throb in his voice.  “Days and days, Sulahn’nehn.”  She felt...something, magic in the room.  “You said if I want something off, you will not stop me.  Say yes, Chrissy.”  He brushed his thumb over her nipple, ever so lightly.

“Yes,” she moaned.  She arched her back into his touch, closing her eyes.  He moved his thumb, and damp warmth enveloped the recently vacated spot.  A breathless “ahhhhh” escaped her.  He took the opportunity to brush his hand over her hip, and came away with her smalls, neatly undone at the seams, tossing them with the gown.

He rubbed his cheek on her breast.  “Someday soon, I will taste every inch of you, ma’nehn.”  He slid his mouth up, nibbling her collarbone, running his tongue everywhere his fingers had touched.  He nibbled at the tendon on her neck, and her breath caught.  His hand returned to her breast, rolling her nipple and pinching it lightly.  He chuckled against her skin when she moaned, but didn’t stop.  

Damp kisses along her jaw, nipping her chin.  She opened her lips for him, but he skipped them.  He kissed her brow, her eyes, her cheeks, still holding her head in that position.  “I will get even, mo chroí,” she panted.

“I look forward to that day.”  His teeth grazed her earlobe.  She brought a hand up, and it fluttered in the air before she set it on his shoulder.

“Solas, please.”  Her voice cracked on the last.

“Something you want?”

“Kiss me.”

“I am kissing you.  Can you not tell?”

“Now.”

He chuckled yet again, but moved his face in front of hers, bare millimeters away from her lips.  “Hmmm.  I think my ten minutes is up.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she snarled, tangling her fingers in his shirt and pulling him that last bit to her mouth.  He released her hair, letting her move.  She had her hands gripping his head, and his arms moved lower, hands gaining handfuls of soft ass.  Their tongues dances as he kneaded, then stretched his fingers to explore her delicate folds.  

She unconsciously arched her back to give him better access, moving her lips to his neck, and he took full advantage.  He dipped fingertips into her honey and then swirled them around her clit. The little noises she made encouraged him, and he pinched it lightly.  He hissed, but not in pain, when she bit his neck in return.

He slid two fingers into her, and gasped as she wrapped a hand around him.  “I want more,” she growled against his lips.  He caught his breath as the feral look in her eyes.  She pulled herself off his fingers, pushing his clothing just enough out of the way.  He groaned as she swirled her hips, brushing the head of his cock against her clit, then again when she smirked wickedly.

She captured his hands, pulling them to her chest and tangling his fingers with hers.  She swirled her hips again, catching him in just the right spot.  His hips flexed an inch, and she pulled back, keeping his hands trapped. A low chuckle escaped her.  “Something you want?” she purred, as she returned.  

“Chrysopal.”  His tone was perilously close to a whine.

“Yes, mo chroí?”  She slid down until his tip was nestled firmly against her entrance, then retreated when he moved his hips again.

He said something she didn’t understand.  He caught himself, then switched to the trade tongue.  “You will push too far, infuriating woman.”

“Will I?  You haven’t yet said yes.”  

He stilled, pulling his hands free of hers.  He cupped her face a moment, staring into passion-filled eyes.  He captured her lips with his again.  Sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, he worried it with his teeth.  He released it, wrapping an arm around her ribs and twining her hair around his other wrist until her head bent back.  “You want this,” he murmured at her cheek.  “Yes,” he moaned, pulling her down on him.

It had been a long time for her, and she only slid halfway down, even as wet as she was.  He lifted her, and pulled her down again, and yet again, until he was fully sheathed.  He held her tightly to him for a long moment, not allowing her to move.  Eyes closed, absorbing the feel of her.  And then she tightened her muscles around him.  He sucked in breath.  Releasing, she did it again.  “When did you learn that?” he murmured, keeping himself tightly under control.

She rocked her hips, just a bit, the limits of her movement.  “Learn what?” she asked in his ear, breathless, and then tightened again.  “I need,” she panted.  “Please.”

“I provide, ma’lath.”  And he moved beneath her.  Slow, languid, he lifted her perhaps an inch, and then slid back in, sucking in breath at the sensation.  Still holding her so she couldn’t move above him, he did it again.  She NEEDED him to move, or let her move.  Faster, more, so she did the only thing she could think of.  She stroked his thread.

He shuddered.  “Do that again.” His grip had loosened, so she rocked her hips on him, grinding herself against him as she did as he asked.  His grip loosened again as he shuddered. She took full advantage, sliding up until just his head was left inside, and coming down again.  She tangled his tongue with hers, and he palmed her fleshy hips with a groan.  He helped her, up and down, breathing fast.  Both of them reaching for the heavens.  

She felt something brushing her clit.  His hands were still on her hips, but whatever it was, it tormented the little nub, sucking and licking until she was making little breathy ah-ah-ah noises.  It was only then that a hand moved, the warm thumb feeling so much better than the phantom.  A brush, and then two, and she shuddered above him, convulsing in pleasure, nearly screaming.

He moved fast then.  Holding her against his chest, he slid so his back was on the seat of the couch.  One arm around her back, on in her hair, he kissed her breathless, driving himself into her over and over.  It didn’t take long until he followed her into ecstasy, moaning his release against her lips.

It was a few minutes later when their breathing slowed.  “You’re still dressed,” she complained, “and I’m naked.”  She didn’t lift her head from his shoulder.  

“Mmmm.”  She felt him twitch where they were still connected, and he slid his hands up and down her back.

“Solas…”

“Evidently, I am naked enough.”  There was a smile in his voice.

“That is entirely a matter of opinion.”

She knew he was going to do it the moment before he did.  “Indeed.”  She pinched his bare hip and he laughed.  “I have discovered a new fondness for this incredibly uncomfortable piece of furniture.”

“Have you?”

“But it is still uncomfortable.”

“I have a bed.”

“So you do?”

“I’m only letting you in it if either you take your clothes off, or I put mine on.”  

“Done.”  She reached for her clothing, and he stopped her.  “No.”  He sat up, shucking his pants and smalls, and stripping his tunic over his head.  “Bed.  You need your rest, because I fully intend to ravish you in the morning.  And perhaps in the fade.”

“We’ll see.  It’s my day off tomorrow, and hug day.  There may be visitors first thing.”

“I put a sign on the door.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Do not disturb.”

“Solas.”

“Unless you wish an audience?”  He laughed when she turned pink.  “Another time, perhaps.”

They climbed into bed, and he pulled her close.


	6. Skyhold, Day 19, 30 Solace, 9:41, the morning after the night before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The languid morning, when Solas gets his way.

###  **Skyhold, Day 19, 30 Solace, 9:41 morning**

“You know, Solas.  I don’t like rocking chairs just because rocking makes me drowsy and relaxed…” Her voice was low and slow, which pleased him.

He smiled, but didn’t rise to the bait.  “They make you feel safe, and the rocking motion helps you think.”

It took a moment for her to respond.  She hummed and spoke softly.  “Well, yes, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“I know.  Good morning, ma’lath.  It’s time,” his smile turned wicked, “to wake up.”

Normally when he does that, she wakes up instantly and completely.  This time was different. She floated just below full wakefulness.  In that pleasant almost-awake place, lips touched the back of her neck. 

He gathered her closer, trailing kisses up to her ear.  A hand traced patterns on her waist.  She was too lethargic to object, and tingles followed where his fingers trailed.  A voice in her ear, lips brushing as he spoke.  “Ma’lath.  Let me.”

“Let you?”

“Vin.  Let me play.”  He tormented her ear, caressing it, nibbling and sucking.  “Allow me to introduce you to the delights of an elvhen body.” He breathed the words between kisses.

“Is there a difference?”  Her voice was quiet.  She still felt the heaviness of sleep in her limbs, making it difficult to move, difficult to want to move, but her mind was clear.

“You shall have to tell me.  You react like no one has ever caressed your ear,” he murmured as he ran his tongue along the ear in question.  She made a little breathy sound, and he smiled.

She tried again.  “Not... like that.”

“I have other surprises for you, as well.”  Something brushed against her shielding.  A caress.  Goosebumps covered her body, and he chuckled low.  “And there is more.”  He moved to his back, pulling her on top of him, back to his chest.  As his lips and tongue teased her neck, his hands began to wander.  

All the places he’d not had time to touch before, he ran his hands.  Soothingly, at first.  Firm strokes, meant to calm her again.  Then more delicate caresses.  Every time she went to move, to touch him back, to do anything, he slowed and soothed.  “Relax, Chrissy.  Just let it happen.  For me.”  Her entire body tingled.

He finally stretched his arms to where her legs junctured her hips.  Caressing the creases lightly, stroking thumbs over the bones.  He gently guided her to part her legs, raising his own knees between them.  Spreading them, easing her limbs further apart.  

She lay there, on top of him.  Panting and moaning.  He revelled in the sound.  “You will scream for me, Sulahn’nehn’udh, by the time I am done with you.”  He was erect, and positioned himself carefully.  Just brushing her lips slightly when he moved.  Fingers fluffed her curls, but he didn’t reach that little bit more.  He stroked her thighs, circling his fingers on her skin.  Slowly getting closer.  

She rocked her hips, trying to encourage him.  Writhing just a bit.  He pulled his hands back.  “You are supposed to be relaxing.  But if you need, ma’lath, you need but to ask.”  She made a frustrated noise.  “By the time I touch you, you will understand.  Let me play.”

“Solas…”

“Days and days.  You rush, my love.”

“I will get even.”

“Oh, I know.  And I look forward to that day.”  He purred the words in her ear before biting it.  The tiny pain shuddered through her, bringing her closer to that edge, and he moved himself, just slightly, along her seam.

“Uuungh.”

“Precisely.  So close you are.  How long do you think I could keep you there?”  He played with her nether lips, coaxing her open.  He moved along her slit, stopping before his tip brushed her clit.  A whine from her.  She was tingling, lethargic, and desperate.  Incredibly desperate.

“Please, Solas.”  The words were nearly slurred, and he hummed against her skin.

“Since you ask so sweetly.”  He moved his fingers.  Slicked through her folds, one on either side of the little nub.  Rubbing it back, and forth.  “You are nearly ready for me.”

“I want to touch you.”

“Soon.  I waited too long to put my hands on you.  After I touch every inch of you enough, then I will taste you.  After that, after that, I will let you play.”  He circled her nubbin with a wet finger, and she moaned and tensed.  “Shhhh. Relax…”

She was so close, and he was deliberately keeping her just on the edge.  “Do you want this?”  He got a moan in response.  “Let me show you what you did to me last night.  Twining your magic with mine.  Feel, Chrissy.”  His magic caressed her shields, then twined along the link between them, stroking back and forth.  It was as if someone was wrapping themselves around her, tingling and heat, and craving.  She shuddered in pleasure, close, but not close enough.

She inhaled sharply.  “My…  Oh…  “  He rocked his hips, his shaft sliding along her slick lips.  “Sol…”

“Solas.  Yes.  You did that to me.  Now you know.”  He lifted his fingers from her, watching the honey glistening.  He painted her bottom lip with her juices.  “Taste,” he said, as he sucked the remainder from his hand.  She licked her lips.  He watched the pink tongue intensely, and followed it with his own.  “Kiss me.”  She parted her lips for him, and he captured them with his own.  Her heady flavor tinted the kiss, intensifying the passion.  


He rocked his hips again, and she moaned.  Pulling back, he murmured at her lips, “Say yes, haselan’udh.  Say it in my tongue.  And I will make you very, very happy.”

“Yes.  Vin.  Anything.  Please.”  He reached down again, pushing his purple tip into a new position as he lifted his hips.  He slid into her easily, and he caressed her bud as he moved.  Slowly.  Languidly.  She could feel every brush of his skin, and it only made her crave more.

She tensed, trying to seek that release.  He buried himself, and stopped.  Groaning.  “I want you boneless.”  He stroked her, arms, belly, thighs, breasts.  Stroked until she melted under his fingers.  Then, and only then, did he move again.  This time she didn’t tense.  

The heat furled in her belly uncurled, bit by bit, until it spread through her whole body.  She trembled above him.   He murmured something in Elvhen.  Stroked her again, magic, fingers, cock sliding in and out.  Languid and steady.  Not rushing.  Squeezing every drop of sensation from her body.  His other hand trailed up and down her neck.  She hovered on the brink.  Then he latched his mouth on the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and sucked.  Hard.  She tumbled over the edge, flying higher than she’d ever flown, keening.  

More words she didn’t know, in a very satisfied tone.  He praised her, complimented her, in his own tongue.  He pulled himself out of her, and repositioned.  He put her on her back, and moved above her.  Hips between her thighs.  She made no objections as he slid home again with a small moan.  

This time, he kissed her, sucking her bottom lip.  Nibbling the corners of her mouth as he moved within her, still slow and steady.  His own breath became unsteady, and his movements more jerky.  She was recovering from her own climax, fully coherent, and wrapped her legs around his waist.  He rewarded her with an open mouth groan.  

She took the opportunity to run her hands down his back, tracing patterns.  He arched, the muscles of his torso tensing.  She pulled him back down to her, sucking his neck, nibbling his shoulder.  He kept the same pace, and she stroked his thread like she’d done the night before.

“Fenedhis, asha,” he groaned against her throat.  His body shuddered as he said it.  He went to pull back, and she tightened herself, stroking his shields this time.  He hadn’t even gotten the chance to move, and he came.  Words in her ear she didn’t understand.  He spoke of things she had no idea about, claiming her as his own.  He squeezed her tightly, telling her in his own tongue he was never letting her go.  Not unless she begged him.

“Solas?”

“I want to keep you in bed for a week.  More.  But I have to let you go.  And Dorian is going to want to be in this bed.”

“If you think that a bed is required, a grá, you have forgotten last night.”  He chuckled in response, and magic flowed over the room. The mark he’d left on her neck lightened to near invisibility.  He couldn’t bear to remove it completely.  The heady scent of sex disappeared.

“I have forgotten nothing.  But you must dress. You have a busy day.  Regrettably, so do I.”  Another kiss, and they went to pick up their clothes.  


 


	7. Skyhold, Day 34, 14 August, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love and intensity, the night he returns.

His head had moved to her neck.  “I love this gown, Emily Lynne.”

“Pay attention, Solas.”

“All of my attention is on you.”

“I thought we were-” He slowly set his teeth to her shoulder, biting just hard enough to tingle with intensity, then ran his tongue over the spot.  The sensation was…  She breathed his name.  “Solas, I don’t think-”

He chuckled.  “Excellent.  I want you unable to think.  I want to taste you, Chrysopal.  My tongue on your skin.  All your skin.”

“So you’ve,” she gasped as he tweaked a nipple gently, “touched enough?”

“I am nowhere near done touching.”  He slid his hands up and down the lace.  She hadn’t quite realized how much skin was exposed until his warmth revealed it.

“It’s my turn, mo chroí.”

“No one is stopping you.” She leaned up to change position, and he took the opportunity to lean forward and run his tongue up her spine.

Goose bumps appeared on her skin as little tingles of cold followed.  Turning to face him, her hands slipped under his tunic.  “That wasn’t nice.”  

“Wasn’t it?  I’ll have to try harder.”  She looked up at him mischievously, meeting his eyes, as she moved her hands to his sides.  “Do not.”

“But, Solas.”

“Please.  No tickling.”

“Hmmm.  Spoilsport.”  A little smirk, and she slid her palms around to his back.  “You wear too many clothes.”

“Do I?”

“I give you a choice, Solas.”  She pulled her hands out of his sweater.  “I want this off.”

“What is this choice?”

“I do not like this garment.  Either you remove it, or I do.  It might not survive if I do it.  I refuse to try and fight with your shoulders.”

“You like my shoulders,” he said, as he stood and pulled the garment over his head.  “And I like that you like them.”

He held out a hand to her, and she took it, standing.  “All talk and no game.  I see.”

“I think I understand that idiom.”  His voice lowered, and he pulled her hips to him, dragging her center over his tensed thigh.  “Shall I show you my game?”

Her hand trembled just a touch as she stroked it up his arm.  “You think you can?”

“I have subsumed you before, barely trying, Vhenan.”  He wrapped strong arms around her, lifting until her lips were even with his.  “If you need a reminder, I can provide.”  He slid her back down his body, holding her just enough away that her lace-clad breasts lightly grazed his chest.  

“Solas…”  It came out breathy.  She slid her hands around to his back, scratching lightly.  He arched, just a little, and she smiled, rubbing her cheek across his chest, nipple height.  “Remember when I called you too tall?”

“I remember nearly everything you have ever said within my hearing.”

“I was wrong.”

“You wer-” he broke off as she delicately teased one flat nipple with the tip of her tongue.

“I was?”

“Wrong.  Very wrong.  It is not yet your turn for tasting, ma’sulahn’nehn.”

“Turn?  Who decides these things?”

“As the older of us, I do believe that falls under my purview.”

She dipped forward and nipped his pec.  “You don’t like it?”

She barely got the words out before he lifted her up for a kiss.  She wrapped her legs around his hips as he leaned back against the wall.  Demanding kisses, taking her breath away.  He wrapped both hands in her hair, pulling her head back.  He laved his tongue over her exposed throat, following it with cool frost.  It shimmered on her skin before melting.  He followed it with another swipe of his tongue, warming the spot.  

“That is…”  She lost her train of thought and moaned as he did it again to the other side.  Shivers ran down her skin, followed by warmth.  “Not fair.  So not fair.”

“That is nothing.  Just you wait.  Remember, ma’lath, that you started this.”  Teeth nibbling at her ear, he practically purred his words at her.

“I did?”  She hadn’t realized he’d been moving until the altitude changed.  He was kneeling on the bed.  He moved her arms from around his neck and gently laid her back.  He didn’t say anything right away.  He leaned down, instead, and sucked a nipple into his mouth through the lace.  She inhaled sharply.

“I love this gown.  And yes. An almost-kiss, the day before we left for the Storm Coast.  Your face had been close enough I could smell your breath on my skin for hours.  My eyes opened to yours, inches away.  If I had been just a moment faster…”  He snagged the other nipple and gave it the same treatment.  The damp lace clung to her skin.  “Your gown is wet, Chrysopal.  I wonder what else is wet?”

“Water, milk, wine-” he silenced her with a kiss, then drew back.

“I told you, I want to taste you.”  He lifted one of her knees, bringing her ankle to his lips.  A light kiss on the bone.  “You have nice feet.  Beautiful calves, shapely knees.”  He followed each statement with loving attention to the part in question.  Stroking, licking, nibbling, sucking.  Every caress adding to the fire curling in her belly. He lifted the other leg and repeated the caresses.

When he reached her knee this time, though, he didn’t stop.  He continued the exploration onto her lower thigh.  “Solas?”

“You smell so sweet.  Apples and newfallen snow.  Just enough tart pine to make it interesting.”

He slid his legs back, settling onto his elbows as his tongue traced patterns up to the crease in her leg.  She tensed.  “You don’t have to…”  Her voice slid into a moan as he ran a thumb over the damp spot in her smalls.  A moment later, the smalls were gone.

“I am not required to do _anything_ , ma’lath,” he responded as he nibbled her hip.  Pushing up the gown as he went, sampling her neck and ears again as he pulled it off her shoulders.  He went about tasting her breasts, her belly, her sides.  Following his lips and tongue with a touch of frost, then soothing the chill. He kissed his way back up to her lips, chuckling delightedly at her glazed eyes and flushed face.

“I…”

“Yes, you.”  He reached down and dipped two fingers into her arousal.  Bringing his hand to his lips, he sucked her juices from first one knuckle, then another with obvious enjoyment.  His eyes glowed in the candlelight, and he held hers as he slid back down.  

This time he ran his cheek over her curls, inhaling deeply.  “Solas…”

“Let me play.  Vin, Solas.  Say it.”  He parted her nether lips with his nose, smiling at the gasp above him.  “So easy to say.  Vin, Solas.”  

“Vin, Solas.”  

He murmured something in his own language.  She jumped at the first contact of his tongue.  He carefully avoided the sweet spot, settling more comfortably.  He wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her in place.  He spent time teasing, increasing her arousal, watching her face, her movements.  When her clitoris emerged fully from its little hood, he fastened his lips to it.  Gently but firmly sliding his tongue against the underside, he sucked.  Chrissy cried out, sweet music.  

He slipped his fingers back into her hot sheath, prodding the little bundle of nerves from the inside.  Curling his fingers, in and out, in rhythm with what his mouth was doing.  He watched her face as she panted and moaned.  It took very little time before she sang for him.  Gentle strokes to soothe, and he started again.  Three times he wrung cries of satisfaction from his lady.

Exhausted, she lay there as he kissed his way back up to her face.  She tasted herself as his tongue massaged hers.  “Not fair,” she moaned.  “You’ve had nothing.”

His hips settled into the hollow of hers.  At some point he’d removed his other clothing, because she could feel him prodding her entrance.  She lifted her legs, wrapping them around him and pulling him to her.  He resisted, whispering a small question.  “Game?”

She smiled.  “Perhaps a little.”

“I’ll have to try harder next time.”

She lifted her head, catching his bottom lip in her teeth.  “Come here, mo chroí.  You are too far away, and I need you.”

He fastened his lips upon hers, closing his eyes as he slid into her.  The first stroke was long and slow, and he shuddered at the sensation. “Ir vhenas,” he breathed at her lips.  Then he withdrew, and slid home again, faster, and then faster.  No languid exploration, this.  He drove himself against her, grinding his hips as he moaned.

Balanced on his elbows, he looked down their bodies to see them joined.  Something about the sight lit a fire in his eyes.  He moved like a man driven, returning to set his teeth to her neck, slamming their hips together.  She licked and nibbled and held where she could.  She scraped her nails down his back and he arched.  He hissed yes, over and over, in his own tongue, and words she didn’t understand.  Not long later he buried himself to the hilt, shuddering his climax above her.

He dropped his forehead to hers, breathing hard.  His eyes stared into her own, and she placed a hand on his cheek, stroking the sharp angles with her thumb.  “Ar lath ma, Vhenan.”  Almost a whisper, but he heard.

His eyes closed as he savored the words.  She ran her hands along his back, his neck, his head, soothing where before she’d aroused.  They didn’t say anything else for a long time.  He slipped out of her, moving to his back.  She put her head on his chest.  He spoke.  “That was…”  He just smiled a little half smile.  “You are fascinating, Emily Lynne.  In so many different ways.”

“If you say so.  Will I see you tonight?”

“If you wish it.”

“My wishes aren’t in question, a grá.”

“Hmmm.”  He played with her hair, smoothing the tangles, as she began to drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir Vhenas = I am home.


	8. Make-up sex, without the argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has to make her annoyed before he can show her make-up sex.
> 
> From the beginning of Chapter 138: Day 41, 21 August, 9:41 (Which means it's really the night of 20 August, but it's not that important)

She was laying on her side in the circle of his arms.  “Not yet, please?  I don’t want to have that fight yet.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Fight?”

“Possibly.”  She wasn’t meeting his eyes, focusing on his chin.  She did that when she was uncomfortable.

He put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she would look at him.  “I will not be fighting with you.”  Her idea of fighting was words and anger.  He knew better.  Fighting was blood and pain.

He knew she was trying to shift the conversation when her entire demeanor changed.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and practically purred at him.  “Aw, darn.  Haven’t you ever heard of make up sex?”  

He let her get away with it.  “Of course,” he murmured, rolling her onto her back.  She sucked in a breath as he grazed her chin with his teeth.  Finally meeting his eyes, she  traced his brow with a finger as he spoke.  “But we could skip the fight and move on to the making up…”  He kissed her lips, light pressure.  The skin clung as he pulled back, slowly separating.  She wasn’t the only one who could do sultry.

He slid one hand down her side, lightly tracing her curves.  As his fingers reached her hip, his direction changed.  His hand cupped the curve of her ass, squeezing gently.  Slipping further down, he suddenly gripped her thigh and pulled her flush against him.  His eyes were feral in that one moment, and she inhaled sharply, curling her leg over his hip, rubbing herself over his hardness.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he leaned down slowly.  Their faces a scant inch apart, he breathed in as she exhaled, taking her breath into himself, then returning it as she filled her lungs.  Flickers of lightning danced in his eyes and heat curled in her belly.  His head dipped and he nuzzled against her cheek.  He slid his against hers, until his face was hovering above hers again.  “So much to teach you.  You have no idea, little one.  I will make you crave me as much as I crave you.”

She traced delicate patterns in the nape of his neck.  She didn’t know what possessed her to provoke him.  Lifting her head, she closed the distance with another kiss before she spoke.  There was a hint of challenge in her voice as she responded.  “Are you so certain you can, mo chuisle?”

For just a moment, his hand tightened on her thigh.  His eyes darkened as he dropped his head.  He planted a chaste kiss in the hollow behind her her ear, then caught the edge in his teeth.  He lifted his hand from her thigh, bringing it up near her shoulder.  “I can smell your arousal on your skin, Emily Lynne.  I hope you did not care for this gown.”  That was the only warning she got.

She felt the warmth of his hand on her clothed shoulder, and then she felt his skin on hers.  She looked down as he trailed slim fingers over bare skin.  The gown she had been wearing dissolved into wispy tendrils under his hand.  As he cupped her breast, the nightgown continued to waft away, disappearing entirely.  “That is not fair.”  He smiled at the hint of pique.

He suckled her neck, then nipped her shoulder.  “You yourself called me ruthless,” he murmured against her skin.  “Implied I destroy what is in my way.  That gown, it was in my way.  It never will be again.”  He growled the last sentence.  As he spoke, he trailed kisses to her breast.  Just before he reached the peak, he pulled back perhaps a millimeter.  

“Solas…”  That wasn’t the tone he wanted.  It was still soft, barely aggravated at the loss of her property.  He wanted more.

“I will replace it. Fabrics woven of rose petals, shimmering silks, these are what will grace this skin.”  He breathed the words over the sensitive nub, and she arched up, wanting his lips on her.  “Already?  I’ve barely touched you.”

“Am I supposed to be resisting?”

“Oh, yes.  These little caresses would never soothe your anger enough.”  He looked up to her face, hands stroking lazily up and down her sides.  “Of course, I may be wrong.  Is this all it takes to soothe you?  I hadn’t thought you so shallow.”  He watched her brow tighten in minor annoyance at his words. It had been a long time since he’d played like this.  He smiled, and her eyes narrowed at him.  Just a tiny bit.  It was enough to build on.

Chrissy saw that smug smile on his face.  If he’d had hair, she’d have yanked it.  She was considering her words when he slowly pulled back so he was on his knees.  “Giving up, mo chroí?”

“Never, ma’asha.  Just admiring a woman laid out before me like an offering.”  He did.  Her flushed face with lips that would soon be swollen from his kisses, the mark he left on the side of her neck, the fullness of her breasts.  And just to push her a little more… “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Is that how you see it?  I see a man on his knees.”  The hint of venom in her voice thrilled him.

“Are you feeling grumpy, ma’lath?  Perhaps I should let you rest.”  He knew that would poke at her.

“Perhaps you should find something else to do with that tongue.”  She didn’t realize just how enticing she was when she was aggravated.  It was the eyes.  Three tiny sparks, but he saw them in the dim, and smiled.

“Oh?  And what would you have me do?  Perhaps I am tired, and should get ready for sleep.”  His tone was wicked, and he took the opportunity to strip his tunic off.  

Her chin lifted haughtily while her eyes traced the lines of his chest.  “Well, considering your great age, I’m not surprised at your need to get to sleep early.  Enjoying the nightlife is for the young.  But I thought you woke only a year or so ago.  To need a nap so soon…  Shall I get you some warm milk?  Perhaps a-”

He swooped in and captured her lips, propped up on his elbows above her.  “Someday, da’asha, you will push too far.”

“Oh?”  She pulled her mouth free and licked up his ear.  The quiet groaning sound he made pleased her.    She wrapped her legs around his hips.  “And what will happen on that day?”  She rocked her hips against him as she spoke.  He’d taught her too many tricks already, for ice, followed by warmth, flowed up his back to his neck.  Then the minx took the tip of his ear into her mouth and sucked, sliding her tongue along the edge.  He shuddered.

She wasn’t done.  A moment later, delicate tendrils stroked his shields, then it felt like someone LICKED their connecting thread.  Fire shot to his groin.  “Fenedhis, asha!”  She felt his shoulders tense under her hands, and his eyes closed.

“Oh, I hope so,” she purred.  His eyes flew open and he stared at her.  The feral side of her nature he’d been baiting stared out from her eyes.  “The curse words stick in the head.”  The tone throbbed, and he throbbed in turn.  She grazed her teeth on his chin, then nipped it sharply.  “I thought you wanted to sleep?  It seems that parts of you are definitely awake.”

A moment later the rest of their clothing was gone, her smalls, his leggings.  She didn’t know what happened to them.  One moment they were there, another gone.  He rubbed himself against her, moaning at the feel of her dampness.  She scraped her nails down his back and he reared up.  

His eyes flashed, stronger than before, and she felt hands.  And not just hands.  Fingers tracing circles on her ankles.  Palms stroking up her sides.  Phantom tongues bathing her nipples.  Teeth teased the side of her neck.  Every single erogenous zone he’d found, he played with.  That spot behind her knee, the edge of her jaw, nothing was left untouched.  He bent forward as she quivered under the onslaught, and massaged her tongue with his own.  Reaching between them, his fingers slid to either side of her clit, pinching lightly.  She crested, and he swallowed her cries.  

He ripped his lips from hers, speaking in hushed, demanding tones.  “Tell me you want me even half as much as I do you.  Say my name, Emily Lynne.  Vin, Solas.”

It took forever for her to eyes to focus on him.  “Yes, my Pride.  I want you.”

“Even now,” he groaned.

“Please!”

He didn’t want to hold back any more.  “Ma Nuvenin,” he panted, as he slid home.  The onslaught had never ceased, and the added stimulation of being filled pushed Chrissy over the edge yet again.  She clenched around him, and he moaned.  He felt her lips and teeth on his shoulder, and it intensified his desire.

He stroked in and out, any rhythm accidental to his need.  Bare moments later, the added stimulation stopped.  He stroked erratically, one hand fisted in Chrissy’s hair, the other holding her hips to him.  He tangled his tongue with hers, needing to scent her breath.  Choppy uh-uh-uh sounds against her lips, until he slammed himself in to the hilt, muscles locking, head thrown back.

As he came down from his orgasm, he started to pull his softening member out of her.  Chrissy tightened her legs around his hips.  “Not yet.  Don’t leave me yet.”

Solas gathered her close.  Gentle kisses, small caresses.  Chrissy hummed against his shoulder.  “What is it, haselan?”

“We’re going to have to make up more often.”

He chuckled, but she’d already fallen asleep.

  
  


 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenedhis. Widely rumored to mean "wolf cock". She asked what would happen, and he responded with Fenedhis. Not a great way to make her behave, now is it...


	9. The Game Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halamshiral Trip, Day 1 and day 2, playing games. Or as seems to be the popular term now, Sexytimes Chicken.

###  **Halamshiral Trip, Day 1, 25 August, 9:41**

Evening before:

He kept holding random things up to his face as he picked them up.  She smirked behind him as she wrote.  She was next to an open window, so he could easily assume the scent was from outside.  As she finished, she put away her pen, then went over to his bed, curling up under the covers.

He finished packing, setting a knapsack and saddlebags near the door.  Catching her eyes, he slowly lifted the tunic, pulling it over his shoulders.  She just smiled, obviously enjoying the view.  He smiled in return.  Setting a knee on the bed, he crawled over her, letting his amulet drag across the blankets.  Normally he tossed it over a shoulder.  The sensation of the heavy bone trailing over her body was… surprising.  “Time for sleep, haselan’udh.”

A quick kiss, and he crawled under the covers.  He stopped.  He leaned over her, then pulled back.  Settling his legs beside hers, he dipped his head again, inhaling deeply against her neck.  “It’s you.  What have you done?”

She walked two fingers up his bicep to his shoulder.  “Whatever do you mean?”

“Chrysopal, what is this scent?”  He slid his cheek along hers, closing his eyes as he inhaled again.

“Seggritt found me a perfume.”  His eyes opened.  “It’s customary, isn’t it?  To wear a scent?  I halfway think he commissioned it.”  He closed his eyes, then visibly, with effort, dismissed the thought of another man choosing a scent for her.  That man was hers, and knew his place.  Not competition.

“You smell amazing. Like a…” He named a spicy vanilla dessert from his younger days, “in a brand new library, but somehow sultry.”

She traced her fingers up his bare back, lightly scratching back down.  Moving her mouth next to his ear, she murmured.  “I’m glad you like it.”  She opened her mouth and released warm air over the sensitive spot.

He stifled a groan.  Returning the favor, he breathed into her ear.  “Cruel woman.”

She curled her arms up under his shoulders, holding him tightly.  Grazing his chin with her teeth, she smiled.  “Problem?”  She held his eyes and nipped at his chin delicately.

He groaned, capturing her mouth.  He licked her bottom lip.  “You wore my favorite gown…”  His lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, and he sucked the skin into his mouth.  “And you smell like this.”

She slowly slid her toes up his calf, wrapping her leg over his hip.  He slid a hand down, pulling her hips to him.  He bit her shoulder, that frustrated growl that she loved flowing over her skin.  “Anytime you want to ask, mo chroí…”

He stopped.  He’d forgotten, for a moment, that they were playing.  His mood immediately shifted.  He wouldn’t forget again.  “No.  Not yet.  It has been less than a full day.  But I see the game you play, ma’lath.” She nibbled at his neck and his body shivered.  He just chuckled.

He turned her to her side, putting her back firmly against his chest.  As he played, he told her they had to rest.  Running his hands up and down the lace, her nipples hardened under his fingers.  He slowly dragged the gown over her skin, gently biting her shoulder.  A bit firmer, and she moaned.

When she started breathing heavily, he chuckled.  “Anything you want to say?” She groaned, and he stopped.  The little sound of frustration she made was gratifying when he murmured, “Goodnight, da’asha.” 

 

###  **Halamshiral Trip, Day 2, 26 August, 9:41**

She ran her hands over his scalp.  “I was just trying to be nice.  You did once tell me you had wanted to see what I wore to bed while traveling.”  He stilled against her.

He dragged his fingers up her throat, gently gripping her jaw.  He nudged her chin up with his thumbs until she met his eyes.  “All those nights you spent with me in the fade.  This is what was gracing your body?”

She smiled smugly, pleased at the heated look on his face.  “You hadn’t even gotten a kiss, and yet a few feet away I lay half-naked.  Alone, and yet still in your arms.  If only you’d known.  I wore my clothing on the boat, just in case, but other than that...”

It was suddenly pitch black.  She tensed, unsure of his intentions.  “Shhhh, ma’asha.  You are in no danger.”  Not even the glint of his eyes was visible.  A moment later, there was nothing she could feel of him. The cot moved.  It was dark, it was quiet, and she knew she wasn’t alone.  There was no fear, just anticipation.

Warm breath brushed her ear.  A tongue licked her neck below it.  When she reached, he wasn’t there.  “No magic, Solas.”

“I like the taste of your skin too much, Vhenan.” His voice was on her other side.  “The only magic is silence and darkness.”  Fingertips trailed up her side, brushing the underside of her breast.  The darkness intensified the sensation, somehow.

“You can see, can’t you.”

His cheek brushed against her belly, causing her to suck in a breath.  “You are beautiful.”  Openmouthed kisses along her waist, and his tongue dipped in her navel. “Why would I block out this glorious sight?”

This time she got her hands on his head, his neck, but she only stroked gently.  When she traced a finger up his ear, he captured her hand in his.  “Problem, Solas?”

“No.”  He pulled back, and she was alone again.  “Never knowing where I might touch next.”  A fingertip brushed the turgid peak of her breast.  “Will I do something unexpected?”  Her hand was let go, and his two slid up to cup each mound, kneading.  A sharp nip to the left, and she gasped.  He soothed the bite with his tongue, warmth spreading from the spot.

He wrapped his lips around the peak, and sucked strongly.  She moaned.  After a few moments, she pulled his face to hers.  “Kiss me, Solas.”

“Hmmm.”  She could feel his breath on her chin.  “I could.”

She didn’t let him continue, meeting his lips by feel alone.  Carefully she kissed him, teasing and parting.  A hand on his shoulder, then tangling her tongue with his.  She let him win the game of tease and nibble while she eased him, all unknowing, onto his back in the darkness.  A sense of accomplishment filled her when she was finally atop him, instead of the other way around.

Then she slid her mouth down his throat to his chest.  Moist open kisses, leaving a trail of wetness behind.  Just as she was about to reach his flat nipple, hands buried in her hair, stopping her movement.  He chuckled darkly.  “Not today, ma’lath.”

Dragging her face to his, he claimed her mouth again.  “Sneaky little thing, you are,” he sighed against her lips.  “I shall have to remember that.”  He pulled his odd maneuver, putting her under him in a single fluid movement.  His hips between her thighs, she could feel him.  She rocked herself, and he pulled back.  “Ah, ah.  Not in the tent.”

Holding her head steady, he went back to tormenting her.  Little kisses and nibbles, starting at her lips and moving to her ear.  She felt him smile as she shivered.  Warm and wet, slow and delicious, he tongued her ear until she was panting.  

His other hand wandered, stroking deftly.  He plucked her nipples, lightly scratched her shoulder, all while keeping her stilled under him.  The only senses available to her were touch.  Taste.  Smell.  The feel of his mouth on her, trailing down her neck.  Teeth, setting to her skin in a long, slow bite that tingled when he let go.  The smell of leather, and books, and arousal.

She moaned for him.  “I want to touch you.”  Her hands stroked his skin, but he caught them, holding her fingers.  He stretched her arms above her head and pulled back.  The only thing she felt was hands on hers and a cool breeze.  Her already-puckered nipples hardened further, and he chuckled.

“Soon.  For certain definitions of soon.”  He returned to her mouth, his chest warm against her.  “I want your mouth on mine.”  He teased and cajoled, with fingers and tongue and words.  His lips traveled her body again, until she was quivering.  She throbbed and ached.  She took in a shuddering breath, so close to asking for what she wanted, and he stopped.   Just stopped.  An embarrassing whine escaped her lips before it cut off. 

“Solas-” he cut her off with a kiss.  A very thorough kiss. 

“Until tomorrow.  Rest, Chrissy.  You’re going to need it.”  There was suddenly light, and sound.  She blinked in the relative brightness.  There were PEOPLE.  In the tent.  She’d forgotten.  She made a sound low in her throat, and he chuckled in return, pulling her to him.  She started making plans to get even.


	10. Halamshiral Trip, Day 3, 27 August, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a backrub at the end of the day. And a hint about his amulet. Soft and sweet. No smut.

###  **Halamshiral Trip, Day 3, 27 August, 9:41**

Briri was just starting to undo the complicated whatever that was in Chrissy’s hair when Solas appeared in the entrance to the tent.  Ducking slightly to enter, he caught Briri’s eye for barely a moment.  She immediately stood, curtsying to Chrissy then Solas before scurrying out.  

“Someone wise once said the people bend their knee too quickly.  I’m starting to see it.”

“Arguing with them changes nothing, ma’nehn.”

She sighed as he planted a chaste kiss on the side of her neck.  Pulling back, he picked up where the maid had left off, unplaiting the strands and running them through his fingers.  A few minutes later, he picked up the brush, putting it to use.  “I’m really starting to think you have a hair fetish.”

“No.”

“You could grow your own.”

He leaned forward, deliberately brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke.  “Say please, Vhenan, and you could play with my hair this night.”

“Oh, that’s tempting.”  He brushed her hair until the static crackled, then smoothed it with his fingers again.  “Lay down, Solas.  After you remove your tunic.  Can you safely remove the amulet?”  He stopped still.  It was the first time she’d ever acknowledged the talisman he wore in any way.

“Why do you wish to know?”

“Because I wanted you comfortably on your chest, without the item interfering with your neck or back, if possible.”

“It is perfectly safe for me to remove it.”  He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug.  “It is mostly a decoration, and a reminder.  It is not something I am required to wear.”

“I wasn’t sure.”  He pulled off the tunic and set his amulet beside his head.  Laying on his back.  “Turn over.”  He eyed her cautiously, and then did so.  She positioned his arms by his sides, then tried out one of her new skills.  

Dorian is a font of knowledge.  Creating grease to clean and oil is no different from creating scented massage oils.  Not really.  Any scent you want, instantly.  So sandalwood and chamomile perfumed the air, with a hint of vanilla.

He reared up when she twisted that piece of her to make the oil real, turning to look at her.  She quickly figured out the issue.  “I’m not going to hurt you, Solas.  You are in no danger from me at the moment.  I promise I’m not trying to hurt you.”  He still seemed wary, but he settled back down.  “If you are not comfortable, a grá, then-”

“Continue, with whatever you were going to do.”  He closed his eyes, waiting.  

She dripped the oil from her hands to his back, and gently spread it.  Straddling his rear end, she leaned forward, kneading and stroking.  Sliding hands up his back.  Knuckles in his shoulders.  Firm strokes down his arms and hands.  Tracing his spine and his ribs.  Firmly digging thumbs into his neck.

It took a long time for him to relax, but she was patient.  When he finally released some of the tension he was holding, she leaned forward again.  This time, he could feel that she was not wearing the chemise she’d started in.  He started to move, and she stopped him.  “Just relax, ma’lath.  You are safe in my hands.”

She used more than just her hands.  This time, she used arms, elbows, breasts.  Stroking against his skin, relaxing him.  And every so often, when she felt it was appropriate, she’d brush his ears with her oiled fingers.  And he would take a deeper breath.  

She attacked the knots and snarls of his muscles, leaving them lax and smooth in her wake.  Dragged her fingertips, chin, cheek, over his scalp and neck, kneading firmly or stroking lightly, following the contours of his body.  Sliding her own oiled torso against his, her softness soothing.  “Where did you learn this?”  His voice was slurred, and he didn’t open his eyes.

“I didn’t.  Not really.  I just wanted to touch you.”  He hummed in response.

He was silent for a long time, then the rest of his body gradually eased, slack beneath her.  She didn’t know how long she’d been massaging him, but the others weren’t back yet.  She smiled, finishing her motions.  She slipped the amulet back over his sleeping head.  He was far too skittish without it, and she didn’t want him waking up nervous.  It would undo all that hard work.

With a smile, she dressed and covered them both, and settled down to write.


	11. Halamshiral Trip, Day 6, 30 August, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He almost loses their little game, and so does she.

###  **Halamshiral Trip, Day 6, 30 August, 9:41**

Sleep claimed her and the fade welcomed her.  He'd put her in one of those moods, and she was in a playground of imagination.  Her own personal holodeck, bent to her will.  She was considering her options when he appeared at the edge of her space.  He paused there, waiting.  She turned to him, and he moved toward her.  A step, then another.  And paused again.

“May I shape your space?”  He held out a hand.

“Mine and not yours?”  She started moving toward him.  Her fingers stretching to his.

“Yes.”  Hair swung as her head tilted.  His tone was odd, throaty, nearly throbbing.  He moved not a hair from where he was, still holding his hand out, locking his eyes on hers.  “Come to me.”

“You are in an odd mood.”  She checked their thread, and he smiled.

“Oh, yes, it’s me.  Say yes, haselan.  Vin, Solas.”  Chrissy moved forward again, placing her hand in his.  His fingers closed over hers as he took a deep breath.  “I have missed you in the fade.”

“I have been here, ma’lath.”  Her other hand reached up and stroked his face.  His eyes closed as her thumb brushed his cheek.  “If you have a need…  You have only to say Please, Chrissy, a grá.”

“Answer my question, Emily Lynne.”  He gazed at her steadily as his arm came around her.

“Shape away, but I might change things.”

The intense mood he’d been fostering broke when he sighed.  “Never can you say Vin, Solas.”

“Oh, I’m sure that I will say it, at some point.  I have said it, in fact.”

“Aggravating woman.”

“Of course.  Wouldn’t want you to get complacent, now would we?”  Regrettably she had forgotten previous lessons.  Affecting her space affected her.  Something rippled through her, pleasant, tingling, then fuller, somehow, as he bent his head to her lips. The fade changed, area rugs and pillows appearing.  Smells of the sea through arched pillars.  She gasped, her eyes still closed, at the new sensation of him changing her space.  “Cheating?”

He hummed against her skin.  “Not against the rules, ma’haselan.  You gave me specific permission.  The side effects are not my fault.”

She opened her eyes to breezy opulence.  She barely had time to take a breath before his hands fisted in her hair.  He made a pleased noise, not quite a laugh, when her eyes closed again.  Stepping around her, he dragged his tongue along her shoulder.  A small kiss under her ear, and then he caught the edge in his teeth.  “Listen, ma’lath, to the sea.”  

He nibbled and sucked at the sensitive thing, then pulled back.  Releasing her hair, he palmed her hips, pulling her ass against him with a low groan.  She raised her hands to his head, holding him gently.  His back bowed, and laid his teeth against her neck.  Biting gently.  Soothing with his tongue.  “ _Better than that world deserves.”_  He breathed it in Elven. He continued in Trade.  “Feel the pounding of the surf, ma’lath.”  Nibbling her nape.  “In and out, sliding against the sand.”

He ground himself against her, letting out an almost-inaudible groan.  Pulling her hard against him for a moment, he then released her hips.  Hands traced her shape up to her collarbones.  Untying the ribbon, he slipped her chemise off her shoulders, tracing the skin revealed with his cheek.  It loosened further, and she grabbed at it.  “Shy?  There is no need, Chrysopal.  We are the only two people in the world, and there is no one but me to see you.”

“Then how come I’m the only one losing clothing, a grá?”  She turned to him, lifting her arms to his neck.  Nibbling his chin.

“Oh, Chrissy, you forget.”  He breathed it against her lips, then kissed them gently.  “There is no clothing here.”  His arms wrapped around her and she gasped.  They were skin to skin.  “This is my mind, twining with yours.  Our dreams, our magic, blending and separating and stroking.”  Her lips parted and her eyes glazed.  “Here, we can be closer than any of them has ever dreamed.”

“Should I be worried, my love?”

“Never.  I don’t want to invade all of you.”  His voice lowered, rasping against her cheek.  “Just parts of you.  The parts intended to be invaded.”  He nibbled her lower lip before lifting his head.  “You are safe with me.  Kiss me, Chrysopal.  Of your own will.”  She stood on tiptoe, seeking him.  He chuckled.  And he backed up.  Smoothly sliding to the pillows on the floor, his naked form nearly glowing in the moonlight as his eyes glinted.

One corner of her mouth lifted.  Slowly she pulled her hair around her neck and to the side.  It covered most of her front but left her neck bare.  With that same little smirk, she leaned down over the leg he’d stretched out.  He was just watching, and the other side of her mouth quirked.  

Slowly climbing over him, she made sure her hair dragged up his leg.  He took a deep breath as the tips of her locks brushed his knee, then his thigh.  He froze in shock as she suddenly dipped, her tongue darting out over his hardness.  A single swipe from base to tip as she leaned up.  He held absolutely still as she crawled further.  Pausing and moving her head just a bit from side to side over his hips, the smile bloomed into something wicked.  “Hello there.”

“You will-”

“Push too far.  I have heard this before.”  She dipped her head again and frustratingly nipped at his hip.  His own gasp started him.  Her tongue soothed the bite as she brushed her hair against him.

“Are you not going to kiss me?”

“Oh I will.  I just have to decide WHERE.”  She brushed her cheek against his side, using her hand to wrap her hair loosely around his member.  She dipped her tongue into his navel, and his eyes darkened to a deep purple.

“My lips.”

“Ask, Solas.  Please, Chrissy.”  she moved a little further up, licking the curve of his ribs, the edge of his sternum.  He rubbed his scalp, running his hands to the back of his neck.  Displaying his restlessness, despite the stillness of his body.  “Issues?  So easy, mor’ishan.”

She grasped her hair, pulling slowly.  He tensed, curving up to her as the strands caressed him.  Words she didn’t know, but figured were curses, flowed as his cock twitched.  Every loop of hair dragging up him, stroking him.  His eyes closed, his fingers clenched.  When her hair was free of him, she pushed him back down to the pillows.  

She let her body contact him, warmth and softness against angles and muscle.  She chuckled low, then slid so her face was in front of his.  Twined her legs with his.  Less than an inch between their lips.  She opened them, speaking breathily against his bottom lip.  “If you say please, Chrissy, ara ma’athlan vhenas.”  He made a sound low in his throat.  Something between a groan and a plea.  It cut off nearly instantly.  

He suddenly clamped one arm around her back.  The other hand buried itself next to her scalp, cradling the back of her head.  “You have played enough.  My turn.”

“You haven’t gotten your kiss.”

“Kiss me, ma’lath, ma’nehn.”  His tone had a hint of pleading he’d never admit.  It was enough.  She brought her lips fully against his, opening as he deepened the contact.  He rolled them so he was above her.  Dragged his chest across her breasts, feeling the tips tease him.  One leg between hers, he ground himself against her hip for just a moment.

He had done this before, and intended to do it again.  Holding her head still, he kissed her lips, her jaw, her cheek.  She was panting, even without needing air in the fade, by the time he reached her ear.  The arm across her back slid down, keeping her hips flush against him.  He moved his thigh, pressing against her wetness, then tensing.  Relaxing just to tense again, teasing her.  Slight squelching noises, even here in the fade.  Someday soon he’d torment her body the same way.

Every spot, he knew.  He didn’t need magic to tongue her ear, bite that spot at her neck.  To rock her hips against his leg.  She’d nearly won this little game he’d accidentally started.  He needed to ensure that it didn’t happen again.

He released her head, planting his palm on her hair, keeping her where he wanted her.  He met her eyes, double checking.  Holding her gaze, he sucked one juicy nipple into his mouth.  And hummed.  Her little “uhn” moan was gratifying.  

He pulled back his leg to make room for his hand.  Sliding his fingers against her folds, slick juices easing his way.  Her breast left his mouth with a small pop.  He smiled as she lay there, letting him play, lips swollen, beautiful in her arousal.  His middle finger penetrated her body, followed by his ring finger.  His thumb met her clit and danced with it as his fingers worked in and out.

“Cheating..” She panted the words, but she didn’t pull away.

“If you want me to stop…”

“I-”

“Say it, Chrissy.  Say please.  I will bring you your release, or I will stop.  Whatever you want.  Please, Solas.”  He captured her lips with his for a moment, then pulled back.  “Do you want this?”  Her eyes darkened and her breath caught.  He chuckled, an almost sadistic sound, and stopped before she could reach the heights he was pushing her toward.  “You haven’t said please, Vhenan.”

“Please, Vhenan.”  The whine in her voice was music to his ears even as his heart contracted.

“Tricky Tricky.  That almost worked, Haselan.  I want to hear my name.”

“Solas…”

“You forgot the please.”

He saw the debate in her eyes as she calmed enough to think.  He’d made a mistake.  She wasn’t going to give in.  Not now.  He could see her stubborn returning.  He should have never used Vhenan.  “Kiss me, mor’ishan.”  He settled in next to her, kissing her as she asked.  They calmed, gentle strokes and sweet nibbles.  He created a soft blanket and tucked it around them both as they relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for you, Coma, I'm including a dictionary. :)
> 
> Haselan = Spider  
> Vin = Yes  
> Ma'lath = My Love  
> Ma'haselan = My Spider  
> Mor'ishan = Big Guy/Man  
> Ara ma'athlan vhenas = I will call you home  
> Ma'nehn = My Joy  
> Vhenan = Heart
> 
> A grá = Gaelic for My Heart


	12. The end of Sexytimes Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking the edge off, then taking over.

He’d taken off the red nutcracker jacket at some point.  It was draped across the bench at the bottom of the bed, above the boots.  A white shirt and brown pants remained.  His eyes watched her face in the mirror as he adopted a relaxed pose on her bed.  Briri knew what he liked.  She’d put his heart in a lacy thing that seemed to cover far more than it actually did.

She glanced up at him, nervous, then back down to her writing.  He smiled, just a hair, at that.  They’d been teasing each other for a week, and today that was over.  He’d had long enough to calm.  To plot and plan.  He’d never expected her to throw the game like that.  One of the things he adored is that she could still surprise him.

He slid off the bed as she lifted her pen from the paper.  Glided smoothly up behind her.  “Finished?”

She took a deeper breath before she responded.  “And if I say no?”

He slid his hand under her hair, cupping her neck.  “I’d ask why you are capping your pen.”

Her eyes half-closed as he gently ran his thumb in circles at her nape.  She adored the feel of his hands on her skin.  They flew open when he leaned down to her ear and whispered.  “Tonight, you belong to me, and you will tell me so before the end.”  Her eyes held a tinge of fear as she searched his.  When she saw intense desire, not any darker emotions, it faded.

“Solas…”

“Hush, Emily Lynne.”  His hand threaded gently through her hair.  “That is not the tone I want to hear tonight.  Moan my name, ma’lath.”  She swallowed and looked toward the maids’ room.  “They will hear nothing.  They will see nothing.  Tonight, you are mine, and I will not be sharing.”  He’d set up the barrier so slowly she hadn’t noticed, but he saw her eyes unfocus.  

She hadn’t expected him to react so strongly to her checking if a barrier existed.  He stepped behind her, a hand coming to rest on each shoulder.  Mirrors reflect the physical body.  At least these mirrors.  “Not yet, but perhaps soon,” he murmured to her confused look.  That’s when she realized why he’d moved, so that she would not SEE his being.  “Come back to this side of the veil, sulahn’nehn.  I want to play.”

She blinked the magesight away, and he caught her eyes in the mirror.  Cupping her jaw, he guided her to stand.  Pulled her snugly against him with the other arm. He touched his lips to that spot where her neck meets her shoulder.  He trailed them down her shoulder then slid his tongue back to her neck.  He sucked there, keeping her gaze, as she felt the blood rise to the surface.  He soothed the spot with his tongue and smiled.

She reached up to cup his head as he gently nipped her neck.  She tried to turn her mouth to his, and he gripped her neck and jaw more firmly.  His tongue bathed her ear, teeth grazing the edge.  It wasn’t until she sighed in bliss and relaxed against him that he released her neck.  He chuckled lightly, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tilting her head up so he could kiss her.

She turned in his arms, wrapping hers around him.  He plundered her mouth, his hands keeping her head where he wanted it.  She pulled his shirt from his pants.  Lifting his head, he stilled her fingers, placing them on his hips. She knew he wanted them to stay there, and let them rest on his bones.  His hands returned to her shoulders, and he kissed her again before asking, “Need something?”

“I want to feel your skin.  Please, Solas.”

He groaned, slipping his hands back up to cup her jaw. He spoke against her lips. “I believe you have forever changed how I hear that particular phrase, ma’haselan.”

“How terrible for you.”

“Indeed.”  She made an annoyed noise in response.  One of his hands rested at the back of her neck, and the other undid the ties of his shirt, opening it to the diaphragm.  She let him guide her cheek to his chest, and he quietly let out a pent up breath when her skin contacted his.  One soft hand reached up and pulled the neckline to the side.  She nipped the skin so exposed, then fastened her lips to one flat nipple.

When she slid the flat of her tongue against it, he inhaled deeply, pulling her off him.  She helped him pull the shirt over his head, tossing it aside, then licked the lines of his abdomen.  When he tightened his stomach, she smiled.  “Issues?”

“No.”  There was something to his voice, and she glanced up.  His heated gaze was on her face, his lips parted.  Threading his hand through her hair, he guided her mouth back to his chest.  “Again.”  She complied, sucking strongly, brushing her fingernails over the other nipple, eyes darkening with arousal.

He let her play, lips and teeth and tongue.  She savoured the taste of him, going up on tiptoe to brush her lips along his collarbone.  She slid her hands across his body, palming his length through his trousers, lightly scratching his back.  He pulled away from her, sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed.  “Remove that gown, if you like it.”  He said it casually, and she almost missed it.

“Mor’ishan?”

“It is in my way, da’asha, and if you do not remove it, I will.  It might not survive.”  He leaned his elbows back onto the bed.  His eyes swept her body, his nostrils flaring.  “It would not survive.  It is time for me to claim my prize, ma’lath.  Choose.”

She debated, then lifted the confection over her head.  Left in just smalls, she stood there, uncertain.  He lifted a hand, and she went to him.  “You are beautiful.  And you are mine.”  She shook her head, just a bit.  Not in negation, not exactly.  He saw that little shake, and took it as disbelief.

Once again she was shocked at his speed.  He sat upright, snatching her into the air as he stood.  Her legs went around his hips for stability as he captured her mouth.  She was held to him, one arm a steel bar across her back, the other hand tangled more and more firmly into the hair he liked so much.  “Beautiful.” He growled it.  “Do not doubt.”

Another moment, and she was flat on her back under him.  He abandoned her mouth for the curve of her shoulder, sinking teeth into the flesh.  She moaned for him, shivering, as he soothed the spot.  He pulled her head all the way back.  His mouth trailed up the front of her neck, pausing to bite lightly at her chin.  He let her head up enough to share breath a moment, but pulled back when she tried to kiss him.

Sliding further down her body, he palmed her breasts.  Fingers slid to either side of her nipples, then closed, pinching lightly as he kneaded.  Kisses and nips, long draws against her skin, marking his trail, as his head followed his hands, and then his tongue reached one mauve tip.  Chrissy bit back a cry as he sucked it into his mouth.  Teeth worried the little nub, then he slid his cheek against her skin.  “Those little cries are mine, too.  I want to hear them.”

He gave the same attention to the other side before moving his hands to her hips.  Two fingers snagged the edges of her smalls, and he slid them off her in one smooth stroke as he stood.  He swiftly unbuckled his belt and shucked the trousers.  He wore nothing beneath them.  

At the edge of the bed, he wrapped his hand around himself and slid it from tip to base and back, squeezing lightly at the head.  She watched in fascination as he did it again.  He surveyed the marks of his possession on her skin, then made a guttural noise when she licked her lips.

She slid off the bed between his knees, craning her head back to hold his eyes.  “It’s my turn for tasting.”  Her little tongue darted out and brushed his head.  Her hand wrapped where his had been, stroking up and down.  Her head dipped lower, wetness trailing down.  His head fell back, and a soft sigh escaped his lips, when one of his balls slipped into a warm, wet cavern.  Her tongue curled around it first one way, then the other, before moving to the other and giving it the same treatment.

He looked down and saw her gazing up at him.  Her tongue stroked him from base to tip, then her lips closed over him.  She set a torturous rhythm, at once too fast and too slow.  With every stroke he could see her cheeks hollow.

She could feel his need, his impatience.  It thrummed at her, but she maintained her pace.  It wasn’t long before he speared his fingers into her hair, encouraging her.  Her nails clawed his ass as he bucked slightly, saliva dripping from her chin.

He pushed her the few inches back until her head hit the bed, and thrust.  Moving forward until he brushed against the back of her mouth, then retreating.  He kept his eyes on hers as he pushed farther the next time, then farther.  He still had an inch left when she put a hand against his thigh.  His hips retreated until just his tip rested on her tongue, then pushed back to that depth .  She curled her tongue around his shaft as he filled her mouth, and sucked as he retreated.  Again and again.  Faster, but no deeper.

A drop of sweat fell from his forehead to hers.  She made a humming noise of encouragement.  “So close,” he panted, then he lost his Trade.  He could feel the smugness across their connection.  Words she didn’t understand hissed from his lips as he moved.  His hand fisted next to her head.  He made the mental effort to shift back to Trade.  “Take the.. not done...”  She thrilled at how inarticulate he was.  He pushed a little farther, leaning forward and bracing on his arms.   A tortured sound wrenched from his throat.  His body shook as he came for her.

He pulled her up for a kiss.  Demanding a kiss.  Rolled with her onto the bed, holding her close as his breathing settled.  “Better, a grá?”  She curled into his side, stroking one of his ears.

“That was but the first taste.  I’m not done with you yet.”

She looked down his body.  “Looks like you need a bit of a rest.  That’s alright.  Men of a certain age often have such prob-”

He kissed her to stop her words.  “You will pay for that, little elf.”

“I’m big enough.  In places.”

“Very nice places.  Turn over.”

“Why?”

He sighed.  “Always.  Why can you never just say vin?”

She slid her leg up his.  “Would you want me so compliant?”

“One night, ma’lath.”  He moved over her, breathing in as she breathed out.  Providing his breath for her to inhale.  “For this one night. Offer me yourself, belong to me.”

“Solas...”

His lips brushed against hers, barely tickling.  Unsatisfying.  “Say it.”  His hands skated up her body.  She felt it through her skin, to her core.  “Can you not trust me that far?” There was a touch of hurt flavoring his words.

Her heart ached to feel it.  “Oh, beloved.  I didn’t know it was a need. Ir abelas, vhenan.  Vin, Solas.  I am yours, this one night.  Do with me what you will.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes on hers.  She felt the back of his hand brush her belly.  Back and forth, a gentle caress.  His head bent again, tasting her lips.  She licked at his tongue, encouraging him.  He deepened the kiss, chasing her tongue to dance and twine.

It started, barely noticeable.  Something licking at her shields.  Delicately interlacing itself into the weave.  She shivered at the sensation, moaning as pleasure danced across her skin.  Then she looked up into glowing eyes.  His face set, determined.  The threads between hers expanded, until her weave was stretched nearly to breaking.  The sensation.  Stretched and full, determination and desire.  She could feel his desire.  His, not hers.

He saw the moment she realized he’d sealed their shields together.  “Mine.”  A gutteral noise, more than a growl.  It rumbled through her, satisfaction and possession.  Not quite his emotions, just a taste.  Fire shot through her veins, throbbing in time to her heartbeat.  His heartbeat.  He pulled back, hands shaping her breasts, tracing the curve of her hips.  “Turn over, ma’lath.”

She found herself complying.  No force, just intensity.  His teeth scraped across the nape of her neck.  “You ache.  We can’t have that.”  He nibbled at her shoulders, dragging his nails down her back.  She arched up, and he pushed her back down.  “Ah, ah, ah.  Just relax.”

“Relax?”  Her words were breathy, and she felt minty blue swirl through her.  Stroking against her scars, filling her lungs and everything else.  A moment later, the blue was gone, and something tingled through her whole body.  Breathing rapidly, she could feel her endorphins rising.  “Cheating.”

“Yes.  I have you now.  Mine.”  He moved further down, licking her back.  Nuzzling, nipping.  Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she grabbed fistfuls of the coverlet.  Tendrils stroked across their shields as he gripped her ass.  Kneading and stroking.  Rubbing his cheek across her hip, then biting the plump globe.  

Two fingers slipped into her sheath.  She shivered, and he chuckled.  A few slow thrusts and he pulled them out completely.  Her involuntary whine made him smile.  “A certain age?”  He pulled her hips up, sheathing himself in one long stroke.  Fingers reached around, running along her lips, circling her clit.  Then her shields, their shields, contracted, he pressed his finger against her and she tumbled.  From nothing to bliss in moments.

He pulled almost out of her, then thrust again.  Pulled her up against him.  “Say my name, little spider,” he murmured, as he tongued her ear.  His hips slapped her ass as he moved yet again.

“Solas.”

The threads in her shields swelled again.  Full, rich, tingling.  She gasped.  She could feel him moving.  From the inside.  Stroking and being stroked.  Pleasure from both sides.  The feel of her velvet folds on his skin, the stretch of his possession.  Drowning in sensation.  The world spun, the dust swirled, she was SEEING without trying.  Faster, and more.

Soft skin under her fingers, hands at her breasts.  Smooth skin across her chest and warmth on her back.  “Who do you belong to?  Say it again.”  His voice rumbled in her chest and her ear.  “Tell me, vhenan.”  Hands stroked along their thread, their shield.  Teeth nipped at her thighs.  Fingers smoothed her hair, lips brushed her eyes closed.

She tried to hold back, to lengthen the moment.  He was having none of it.  She felt him lower his head and teeth bit at her shoulder.  “Tell me.”

“You, Solas.”  A solid hand ghosted up her throat, pulling her head back.  Real lips captured hers, the warmth a thousand times better than the phantom.  “I need, Solas.”  Tendrils moved deeper, under her shields, over their thread, tying them together.

Arms wrapped under small shoulders, over them, holding them firmly as he/she moved their hips against each other.  “I provide, Emily Lynne.”  Sweat made their skin slippery.  They nibbled at their neck.  Lips against skin, sucking and tonguing.  His/her movements became jerky.  Pushing back against their hardness, thrusting into their softness, rising until they reached that peak.  Tensing, stilling, then soaring.  Collapsing, still tangled, shields, emotions, bodies.

A liquid baritone voice.  “There is still so much, my love.”  They curled together, satisfied for the moment.  A tremor of feminine concern, a worry about being trapped.  Their hand reached up to a masculine cheek, tracing the angles.  Their eyes met, then their lips.  Gentle.  Sadness for a moment, and then the tendrils retreated.

They stroked along the thread, soothing, then pulled back to the shields, untangling until they were separate once more.  Her chest ached, throbbed where her heart should be.  His hand reached up to brush away the tear that slipped down her cheek.  “I am me,” she said.

“And I am me,” he responded.  He kissed her.  “And we are not finished yet.”

“Rest.”

“Vin, da’arlath, vhenan.”

“Da’arlath?”

“Little love.  Sleep now.  I will wake you soon.  We are not yet done.”  His voice throbbed, sounding aroused, even though his body was relaxed.  A hand smoothed over her forehead, lips touched hers softly.  He chuckled softly at the sleeping woman in his arms.  She was his, for now.  He traced her eye socket, then her ear, before settling in to meditate for half an hour before waking her for round three.


	13. When one wants what one wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing her growing in ability has a powerful effect on our favorite Hobo.

###  **Day 14, 8 Kingsway, 9:41, Halamshiral**

The last thing he’d said, “be quick”, murmured in her ear, had been followed by him spinning away from her.  He moved around the room.  Touching things, moving things.  Prowling as he waited.  A vase slid from one side of the dresser to the other, slowly.  He positioned each flower carefully.  She’d never seen him so restless.

He didn’t appear to be paying attention to her.  She finished her writing, setting her things aside.  Solas had moved to one of the windows, gazing outside. “Is everything alright, Solas?”

He stretched a hand behind him, palm up.  “Come here.”  He said it quietly, intensely, but didn’t demand.  He didn’t even look at her, watching the moons.  She moved to him, placing her hand in his.  She’d thought he was calmed, he was so still.  She was quickly disabused of the notion when he hauled her suddenly against him.

A hard arm came around her back, trapping her against his chest.  He looked down into her eyes, his own a dark purple.  “You did not dance this evening.”

“You didn’t like me dancing yesterday evening.”

“I did.  I would merely have preferred you not dance every dance with strange men.”

“And tonight I did not.”

His head bent, and she lifted her face for a kiss.  He slid his cheek across hers, instead.  Inhaling deeply.  His free hand slid under her hair, cupping her neck.  “I love your perfume.  And the scent of the woman under it.”  His teeth grazed under her ear.  He spoke as his head rose again.  “We matched, tonight.”  She started to move back, and his arm tightened.  “Do not run from me.”

There was warning in the words.  She stilled.  “We did?”

“Yes.  Both in black, a difficult pigment to create and maintain.”  He swooped down again and bit her bottom lip firmly, but not quite hard enough to hurt.  Pulled at it, before sucking it into his mouth.  He released it with a wet sound.  She got a sense of rigid control under his careful motions.

Chrissy slid her hands up his arms, resting them at the back of his neck.  Pulling herself closer to him.  “I’m not running, Solas.”  Up on her tiptoes, to place a kiss at his neck.  “I know you won’t hurt me.”  She dipped her tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat, and he stood absolutely still.  “And I have no intention of hurting you.”

When her fingers trailed to his collar, he let her move back a hair’s breadth.  Enough that she could unfasten the top toggle holding the garment together.  Then another.  Enough to slide two fingers against his nape beneath the fabric as she leaned up close again.  “But if I were to run, Faolan,” she breathed against his neck, nipping suddenly.  He inhaled deeply in response.   She soothed the spot with her tongue, continuing, “it would only be to entice you to chase.”

He groaned, moving his hands to her sides and lifting her off the ground.  He captured her lips and she wrapped her legs around his waist.  “You play with fire,” he whispered between kisses.  “Sometimes it plays back.”

“Promises, promises.”

Fingers ran over the bodice of her gown.  “How?  I do not want to ruin this.” His voice held a hint of frustration.

“I’ll show you.”

He set her down, stepping back from her.  She undid the hidden sash, loosening the dress enough to slip from her shoulders.  His hands pushed under the fabric, sliding it down with the chemise and everything else until her clothing pooled at her feet.  Lifting her naked body against him for more kisses.  Discovering that she wore barefoot sandals distracted him a moment, but only a moment.

The hand at the back of her head tightened into a fist, making her gasp.  Delicious sensation, not quite pain.  He pulled her head back, nuzzling and nibbling her neck.  He strode two steps forward, removing his hand from her hair.

She suddenly dropped, landing on the bed.  He leaned into the kiss, pushing her back.  Running his hands along her body, he stood.  She went to sit up, and he snarled “DON’T move.”  His eyes flashed, but nothing touched her.  She stilled.  For a moment, she obeyed.  For a moment.

His hands undid the toggles on his jacket.  A wicked smile bloomed as she caught his gaze.  Trailed a hand up her hip, across her waist, running swirls over the silken skin.  Up to cup her breast.  “Not any movement at all?”  Lifting the heavy mound, grasping her nipple, pulling slightly.  “None?”  Squeezing, then lifting it again, almost offering it.

The fingers of her other hand trailed up her neck, brushed her lips.  He stood there, breathing heavily, toggles forgotten as his digits paused in their work.  Her fingers dragged her bottom lip, dipping slightly inside, then moved across her face.  She slid the damp fingers up the edge of her ear, closing her eyes and licking her lips at the sensation.

When she moaned, he made a tortured noise.  She opened her eyes to see him becalmed.  He began methodically removing his clothing, first the jacket, then the shirt beneath.  He bent, removing the shoes he’d worn one at a time.  Never taking his eyes off her.  She shivered at the look in them.

He stood, toying with the laces of his trousers.  And decided to leave them be, for now.  He took a single, prowling step.  She slid farther back on the bed.  He chuckled low.  “It is too late, ma’lath.  Too late to run this night.  Your only escape is to tell me no.”  Another step, to the side, as she shifted position.  “I believe you were told not to move.”

She swallowed, a hint of nervousness as she watched him stalk her.  “You didn’t say for how long…”  His hands moved to the bed, leaning on it.

“And you have a pathological need to disobey.”  His knees joined his arms as he crawled over her.

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

His torso lowered, and he slanted his mouth over hers.  Lifting his head, he smiled.  A hint too wide, not quite human.  “This I know well.”  Fire ignited in her belly.  Her fingers ran over his skin, and he made a contented noise.  He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply, then pulled back again, catching her eyes for a moment.

Lowering his lips to her ear, he ran his tongue from base to tip, and she hummed.  He chuckled again in response.  “You have no idea what seeing you did to me this afternoon.  To feel the slow swirl of your anger…”  He inhaled her scent again under her ear, a light rumble in the sound.  “I wanted to haul you under me, sink myself in you, soothe you in every way.  I tasted your hurt, and wanted to kill him, for just a moment.”

She tensed.  “Solas?”  He kissed her, then stroked her brow.

“Hush, Vhenan.  He is as much mine as yours.  I would not harm him without far more provocation.”  He sucked the skin of her neck, raising the blood.  “He is needed.”  His head lifted, and his eyes roamed her neck.  She could feel that he was pleased to see the mark on it.  “But there was that moment I was willing.  Even craved the opportunity.  Was it the idol’s effects, ma’nehn?  Or was it more?”

“I don’t-”  She took a shuddering breath as he nibbled her lobe.  “I don’t know, a grá.”

He hummed against her skin.  “Neither do I.”  He settled his hips snugly against hers, pushing his hardness against her core through the layers of fabric.  Her arms held him, hands stroked his back.  “But that first?  I am going to sink myself into you.  Again and again.  Until you can do nothing but moan my name.”  He met her eyes, his dark pools, deep enough to drown in.

She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he apparently found it, because he moved suddenly.  Grasping her wrists, he pulled them together over her head, holding them with one of his hands.  She gasped in surprise, but he ignored the sound.  His free hand traced her curves.  He bent a moment later to follow with his tongue.

“Solas?”  She tried to move her hands, but his arm was rock, holding her in place.  His eyes flared again, and again she felt nothing touch her.  Color soared, becoming more vivid.  Scent intensified.  Something hummed just below what she could detect, tingling her skin.

“Shhhh,” he soothed.  “I am going to drown you, this time.”  He kissed the side of her breast.  “Like before, but now you are not so skittish.”  He said nothing else, but she felt more.  Tendrils stroking her skin, her shields.  Magic, flowing, leaving warmth and want in its wake.  His tongue dipped into her navel as his free hand dipped elsewhere.  A finger, then two.  “Oh, you want me.  Say it, ma’lath, and you shall have me.”

“Please?”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”  His thumb circled her as he plunged in and out with his fingers.  Too slowly.  “You know what I want to hear.”

She looked at his face and his eyes held hers, just that making her skin prickle in anticipation.  “Vin, Solas.”

He hissed out a yes, removing his hands from her, shucking the clothing he had left.  A moment later he was on her again, slipping into her smoothly.  Groaning at the sensation.  He gathered one of her legs to his chest, straddling the other, pulling her closer as he withdrew and plunged deeper.  Again and again, stroking her inside, out, everywhere.  When finally they peaked, he gathered her close.  She was still moaning his name.


	14. Halamshiral Trip, Day 22, 16 Kingsway, 9:41, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas wouldn't shut up. And Cole needed to talk to him. And sexytimes.

###  **Halamshiral Trip, Day 22, 16 Kingsway, 9:41, Evening**

She’d fallen asleep alone.  He could feel her loneliness pulling at him.  It made him sad, and angry.  She was surrounded by people who claimed to care for her in their shallow way, but they couldn’t feel even her strongest needs.  Not until those needs nearly overwhelmed her.

A moment later Cole stood next to him, Darling in his arms.  “< _They try.  She hides it.  She won’t be needy.  Self-contained, self-control, self-soothing.  She must be strong.  She relaxed, in her sleep.  It’s not supposed to hurt you._ >”

“< _I know, Cole.  She pulls those shields so tight that even I sometimes feel nothing from her._ >”

“< _You miss the early days._ >”

“< _When she was not so hidden.  I should have been kinder._ >”

< _She doesn’t do it to hurt anyone.  She wants to help.  It would hurt her to know._ >”

“< _She asks for me, and I refuse her.  This is…_ >”

“It isn’t about you.  < _Stop wearing your name so tightly._ >”

“< _My apologies.  Are you ready yet, Cole?_ >”

“< _She doesn’t want that.  She will tell you, or won’t.  It would hurt, if I did._ >”

Solas sighed.  “< _She knows who I am.  That should have been the worst of it._ >”

“< _She knows things.  Strange things.  True and not true, shades of maybe.  But she’s stuck.  Enchantment and memory, and things that don’t change.  She tries not to push, but reveals too much.  Off script._ >”

“< _She says that, yes.  Off script._ >”

“< _She’s not in her memories, and that scares her.  Am I canon, am I not, will things go worse or better if I change them?  Why does she worry about cannons?_ >”

“< _I do not know.  Not yet._ >”

Papers and books were stacked neatly across the portion of the bed she wasn’t taking.  A sliver of the surface was all she’d allowed her body.  Confined, even as her people confined her, with her work, her clothing, the paint on her skin.  He’d been too wrapped up in his plots to notice her crawling into herself.

She stood up to them, and they changed tactics.  They were a hunting pack, Emily Lynne their prey, and their prize.  And he couldn’t touch them.  “< _They don’t mean to hurt, either.  They do care as they can, but they don’t understand._ >”  The Desire spirit tapped Cole’s wrist and squeaked. He still wasn’t sure how she had managed that.  Compassion looked down, and the two spirits-in-flesh communicated without him a moment.  He chose not to intrude.  Cole spoke up again.  “< _The little brother says they try to give her what they would want._ >

“Cole, would you let the Inquisitor know that Chrysopal is going to be unavailable tomorrow?  Dorian as well.”

“She will object.”

“She will not.”

Cole tilted his head so he could meet Solas’ eyes.  “She will.”

“You have a recommendation, Cole?”

“Small times, spread out.  Nibbles instead of bites.  The one who finally traps her will lose her.”  Cole left as Solas headed for the bed.  Both done with the conversation.  Neither needing a ritualized parting.

He gathered the papers, careful to ensure that he didn’t destroy the way she organized.  A few quick glances were all it took to see she was trying to learn something new, again.  He’d not seen anyone so driven to consume knowledge as fast as possible for a very long time.  Like she thought it would escape, be unavailable, if she didn’t grab on with both hands.

That thought teased his brain a moment.  Not like it would escape.  She wasn’t trying to hoard it.  Like it would be taken away.  As if she thought the means to learn whatever thing would be stripped from her at any moment.  He’d have to ponder that for a while.

Such a little thing.  He ran his fingers through her glorious hair, exposing the colors within.  Not for him, but such a delightful secret.  He leaned down, smelling her skin.  A hint of musk, mature woman.  Apples, pine, newfallen snow.  A forest in winter.  His forest in winter.  Some day, he would take her there.  If things went according to plan.  A trace of that intoxicating perfume lingered as well.

His bent one knee to the plush carpet as he lowered himself beside the bed.  Putting her in easy reach.  He slid his lips along her eyebrow, fingers caressing her neck.  Her eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake.  Not yet.  Something about that made him smile.  Opening his lips slightly, he left an open-mouth kiss, warm and sweet, on her cheek, then slid down her jaw as she woke.

Her eyes looked directly to his, like she knew where he was.  “You left your papers on the bed.”

A sleepy smile curved her lips.  “Hmmm.  There wasn’t any reason to move them.”

He brushed a thumb over her mouth.  “Now there is.”

She turned her head, blinking in confusion for a moment before speaking.  “Too late.”

He ran his fingers over her delicate ear and she tilted her head slightly, giving him better access.  He then leaned down, breathing on it as he spoke.  “I like you this way, all warm and flushed from sleep.”

She pulled her hands from under the covers, taking a deep breath.  Stretching and arching her back.  He ran a hand down her side over the duvet.  She turned her head to him again.  “Someone told me I’d see them in my dreams, but I haven’t.”

A hint of pique under that, but her tone was sweet.  He brought his face close again, scenting her breath.  Smiling on the inside when she raised her lips just a bit.  Asking for kisses.  He had every intention.  But not yet.  “Perhaps I meant in a waking dream.  Did you have a relaxing day, da’asha?”

He rose, leaving his face near hers as he moved over her.  The bed was clear, after all, and he wanted to hold her.  She apparently had the same thought, sliding her arms up his chest, wrapping them around his neck.  He rubbed his cheek against hers in response.  She sighed her response to his question.  “It was alright.  Lessons with Dorian, and I’ve decided to steal Ewan and his family.”

He took the opportunity to slide his cheek against her skin again.  “Steal?”

“Well, not exactly, but not far from it.”  He hummed against her ear, slipping an arm under her back.  His other hand slid under the coverlet, his arm pushing it down as he stroked the silk of her night things.  “You’re in a good mood.”  He inched the gown up her leg until he could touch skin.

He loved poking at her, so he responded with, “Indeed” as he lazily traced designs on her thigh.  He nearly laughed when she nipped his jaw.  “Dream with me, ma’lath, waking and sleeping.”  He started inching the bedclothes off her, magically slipping them to the bottom.

She tilted her head back, brushing her bottom lip against his chin. “Which to do first…”

He had his own thoughts on the matter, but she was given so few opportunities to choose for herself.  “Whichever you like.”  He felt the shimmer of momentary happy, and brushed his lips against her in response.  Not quite a kiss.

“Why are you so pleased?”

He smiled at her as he pulled her against him.  “Because I have the rest of the night with you, ma’asha, and tomorrow, if you wish.  That which kept me away from you is no longer a barrier.  What is left requires a tincture of time.”  He kissed her fully, moving against her soft lips.  Dipped his tongue along the seam.  Pulling back to a hair’s breadth away, he spoke.  “My nights are yours, for the moment.”

She captured his lip in her teeth.  Biting gently, then releasing.  “Then I should take advantage,  before they are taken away again.”  She pulled at his shirt, dragging it up his back.

“Perhaps.”  He stilled her fingers and stripped his shirt.  Her eyes glinted at him, darkening as she ran a hand over his chest.  Brave little one ran her hand up his throat, caressing under his chin with her thumb.  He allowed it, keeping his eyes on hers.

One corner of her mouth lifted as she ran her thumb along his jaw, cupping his cheek.  “You are humoring me, Faolan.  I can feel it.”

“Come to the desert with us.”

“Solas…”

“< _I am filled with sorrow._ >”

“Put that mouth to better use than shaded truths, a grá.”

He bent to her neck, licking and sucking at her skin.  “Listen carefully, < _my heart_ >, for this tongue is not lying.”

He pulled his hand further up her thigh, higher and higher, and still touched only silky skin.  He pulled back to look at her when his hand passed her waist.  No words were needed with that smug look in her eyes.  Briri would have sewing to do.  He undid the seams with a thought, pulling the loose fabric away.  “Solas!”  His trousers were given the same treatment.

“Hush.”  He bent down, taking one pretty peak between his lips.  Her hands roamed his scalp, scratching gently.  She tasted as good as she smelled.  He moved the the other side, giving it the same attention.

His fingers delved, explored.  Their tongues met and danced when he slid up to her.  Her legs snugged around his hips. He reached around her and  cupped her ass, grinding himself against her.  He needed to be closer to her.

He let himself out.  Just a bit.  She must have had the same thought, because the smell of apples intensified.  Inhaling deeply, he spread his shields around hers.  Not too tight, had to be careful.  And pulled her in snugly.  When they were together, safe from everyone and everything, he pulled her close.  And jerked, arching, as ice flowed up his back.

He couldn’t help the low noise that escaped as she chuckled, sliding her lips along his collarbone.  “Are you sure you wish to do that?”  Part of him thrilled when she just smiled, then he shuddered as water, frigid water, flowed down his back.  It faded before it hit the bed, sneaky little magelet.

He loved to play, but it was time to please.  They could play more next time.  He set about arousing her, lips and teeth and tongue.  Claiming her mouth with his physical body even as the rest of him licked and tasted and touched elsewhere.  Drowning himself in the scent of her, the taste of her.  Pushing her toward her peak.  Thrilling to the moans of the woman beneath him as his magic danced over their skin.

When the slightest brush of her tongue against his skin made him tighten, everywhere, he slid home into velvet heat and gripping muscle.  The sounds she made sparked against his spirit, urging him forward.  More, and again.  He couldn’t keep his own moans silent.  Plunging and grinding, he couldn’t help the strength with which he gripped her hips, tongued her throat and jaw.  Leaving marks he would heal later.  Much later.

She made him impatient.  Led him to want more, now, faster, instead of the lingering loving he’d originally planned.  He pulled her head to him, holding firm, sucking the ear into his mouth to her mewling cry.  Stroking it to the same rhythm his hips found.  When she rippled around him, she pulled him with her.  He tensed, driven deep, as his body locked in ecstasy for a long moment.

She held him.  He felt almost like purring as she ran her hands languidly up and down his back.  A few more kisses and he lifted himself off of her.  Her satisfied smile made him lighter.  Laying her head on his shoulder, she sighed contentedly.

He held her, light kisses and cuddles.  Considered letting her out of his shielding, and decided against it.  Later.  In the morning.  Maybe.  Someday, soon hopefully, he’ll actually make good on his days and days promise.  Until then, he’d take the minutes and hours he could steal.


	15. Day 1, 1 Harvestmere, 9:41, First Night Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people understand. Needs, and Wants, and regaining a sense of control.

###  **Day 1, 1 Harvestmere, 9:41, First Night Back**

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes as she gathered one of his hands and stepped back.  Her other lifted, finger beckoning.  She stepped again, drawing him toward her bed.  “But the lack of you?  I have little time to fix before you leave me again.”

His face was smooth.  He took the steps slow, taking care not to spook the woman in front of him.  “Da’asha.”

She froze a split second before glancing away.  Her eyes settled on his chest and she swallowed, her throat dry and tight.  “It’s okay.  If you…”

“Oh, that is not at issue, ma’haselan.  Again, and yet again.”

She relaxed a bit.  “Indeed.”  The grumbly noise he made helped, and she raised reddened eyes to his.  “Then what would you say, a grá?”

Her tone wasn’t as calm as she thought it was.  He smirked, because she needed that.  “I would say, did you bolt the door?”

She blinked.  “I have a bolt?”  He followed her, leaning a shoulder against the wall as she pushed the pin across.  “That’s one piece of new I’m okay with.  I think.  Maybe.  But now, they can’t get to me if something goes wrong, either.  What if I find myself trapped with some dangerous person?”

She leaned her forehead against the door and took a deep breath.  His hand slowly reached out and smoothed the strands escaping from her chignon.  “You claimed that I was dangerous.”

“You are.  You know you are.  But not to me.  Not right now.  If you are, just…  don’t tell me, okay?  Not today.”

“Emily Lynne, you are in no danger from me at this moment.”

“I was mainly thinking about an assassin under the bed or something.”  She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her ear over his heart.  “Why do they do this?  I’m nobody, Solas.  There shouldn’t be assassins.  Or attendants.  Or any of this.”

His hand made slow circles over her back.  He ignored the question.  He knew she wasn’t really asking him.  Even if she had been, she wouldn't be ready for the answers.  “Solas?”  Her voice was so very quiet.  Husky.

“< _My joy?_ >”

She took a shuddering breath.  “Do I have to negotiate for kisses?”

He knew his lines.  “Negotiate?  Would it be fair for one person to be able to kiss freely, and the other constrained?”

“You’re no longer constrained.”

“You seek reassurance, not passion.”

“Not quite, grohiik.  I seek both, tonight.”

“Then both you shall have, if you wish.”

She tilted her head up to him, eyes sad.  Droplets clung to her lashes, lingered in her eyes, unshed.  His face smoothed, perfectly calm.  His hand clenched into a fist for just a moment before it forcibly uncurled.  Gentled.  Returning to stroke her nape.

He leaned down, kissing her eyes closed a moment.  Dragging his lips over salt-damp skin.  His hands cupped her jaw as he moved lower.  Down her cheek, finally reaching her mouth.  As his lips touched hers, she slid her arms up his chest, winding them around his neck.

Solas bent, moving his hands away, reaching around her to cup her ass. He lifted, pulling her tight against him.  Her toes barely grazed the floor as he held her hips to his.  She pulled back, nipping his jaw.  “Hmmm.  Someone likes kisses.”  The words were husky again, and didn't fool him.

The flat of her tongue swabbed his neck, and he inhaled audibly.  “I am incredibly fond of kisses.”  He released her rear, letting her down.  Sliding her slowly down his body until she was again full-footed on the floor.

This time when she looked at him, there were no tears.  She twined her fingers with his, and started back toward the bed.  She kept her eyes on him as she backed up.  In return, he let her lead him.  She still stood too close to the precipice for comfort.  Locked down so tight only the barest hint was escaping her shields.

She could tell he’d expected her to keep going, not stop a few feet from the bed.  But that wasn’t what she wanted tonight.  Not yet.  Her hands pulled from his carefully.  She didn’t want him to think she was rejecting him.

She turned, presenting her back.  “Would you mind?  I shooed everyone away from me.  I didn’t want…”  She didn’t know how to continue, so she didn’t.  “Please, Solas?”

She looked over her shoulder at him.  That last bit might have gone too far.  His face was grim, but his hands carefully unlaced the bodice.  As he worked, moved his lips to the edge of her ear.  “You are still seeking that line.  Trying to push too far.”

“I admit a bit of curiosity.”  She cursed the hint of breathlessness in her voice.

Teeth nibbled her lobe, then his head retreated.  “Be careful.  I am not so tame as you might think.”

“A hint.  Tell me what horrible thing I should be avoiding by not pushing.”

He chuckled in her ear as the last of the lacing released.  “Is that your question?”

“Meanie.  It is not.”

“And did I ever say it would be horrible?”

She turned to face him.  “So where’s the down side?”  This time, her whole face smiled, not just her lips.  And more than just a hint shimmered along the thread that connected them for a moment.  “I am replacing that sweater.”

“Oh?”  He took the hint, though, and quickly removed it.

“Yes.”

“Gloves, hats, sweaters.  What else do you plan to make?  And how shall you bribe me to wear it?”

She smiled.  “I’m sure I can think of something.  Perhaps I’ll wear it to bed for a week before giving it to you.”  Her eyes swept him.  “The trousers.  Off.”

He arched a brow, but complied.  No modesty in this man.  He stood there, in all his glory, bared to her gaze.  “What about you, sulahn’nehn?”  He spread his arms, squared his stance.  If a man could strut standing still, this one was.  She felt his satisfaction with her reaction to his body.

“In good time.”  She pushed his chest, and he sat on the bed.  This was something she wanted to do.  She kept her gaze on his as she pulled the pins from her hair, letting them clatter to the floor one by one.  He had taken her hair down so many times, but he had never watched her take it down for him.  She shook her head, and the chignon fell.  Scented hair cascaded to her hips.

She pulled the skirts up, inch by inch.  He didn’t even notice for the first few, inhaling deeply.  The bunching in her hands finally caught his gaze, then his eyes dropped to her toes.  Ankles.  Gradually revealing her legs as he gave her his undivided attention.  When she reached the top of the thighs, she let it drop, and he made a strangled noise.

“Something you want, mo chuisle?”  He didn’t respond at first, just watched her.  She pulled the dress completely off, no teasing this time.  Thumbs hooked into her smalls, and she bent down.  She pushed the cloth past her hips and thighs, and let it fall to the floor.

“Indeed.”  His gaze was hot on her skin, and she watched as his cock twitched.

A slow smile spread across her lips.  “Is that for me?”

“If you so desire.”

“Hmmm.”  She tapped a finger on her lips.  “Not yet.”

“Oh?”

She moved toward him, one foot in front of the other.  A prowling step.  Reaching him, she bent, sliding her skin along his as she climbed over him.  Face to face, skin to skin, she breathed in his scent.  “Old books and leather.” She spoke almost to herself as she rubbed her cheek against his jaw.

“Are you playing?”

“Oh, I am.”  She placed one elbow on each side of his head, and lowered her lips to meet his.  Closed.  She enjoyed the chaste kiss for a moment, sliding her mouth against his.  Nipping his bottom lip had him opening for her.  Her tongue tasted the wet cavern, and she moaned softly.  “You have no idea how much I love the taste of you.”

She returned to his mouth.  Her tongue coaxed his to dance.  Sliding against each other, dipping and tasting.  He moved to embrace her and she lifted her head.  “Hands down, big boy.  It’s my turn.”  A moment of worry, that she’d gone too far.

His eyes darkened.  “< _As you wish_. >”  Her head lowered again, this time to his ear.  Bathing the sensitive edge, sucking the tip until he made a strangled noise, and moving to the other side to do it all again.  His fingers rubbed the coverlet, back and forth, itching for her skin.

She moved lower, kissing his neck once more.  Stroking his shoulders, tonguing his hardened nipples.  Nipping at the lines of his hip.  His whole body tensed as she exhaled warm air over his hardness. Her fingers stroked his sack, her hair pooled on his legs.  Not a smidgen of magic touched him.  She felt him looking for it.  Expecting it, and she smiled.

“Something you want?”  He didn’t answer her, letting her play.  She took the tips of her hair in her hand like a paintbrush.  Gently she stroked his hip.  Drew designs on his thigh.  Finally she brushed the tips against his hardness.  Slow strokes, teasingly soft.  His hips jerked, and he moaned.  She licked the mushroom head, dropping the hair and closing her hand around him.  A louder sound, and two quick breaths in succession.

Her lips closed over him, and he bucked slightly.  She opened her mouth a little wider, sliding further down.  Rocking motions, up and down, matched with her hand.  She pulled her mouth off him, licking the entire shaft from base to tip, then again.  “Hmmm.  Someday you may have to teach me the magic you do.”

She moved her thumb along his perineum, stroking deftly.  Curled her tongue around his balls, stroking his length with her other hand.  “I do…  I do not think that would be in… my best interests.”

She hummed against him.  “My turn.”  She crawled up his body, then threw one leg over his chest.  That sharp brow went up again, and to get even she cupped her breasts, lifting first one, then the other, to lick and suckle her own nipples.  Her hips rocked and swirled, leaving a trail of her juices across his pecs.  His hands gripped her thighs, and she lifted them back off again.  “Not quite yet, Solas.”

“Come here, ma’haselan.”  His eyes glinted in the candlelight.

“I could.”  She moved further up his chest, knees in his armpits.

He moved fast.  His arms slipped between and under her legs.  A moment later, she was positioned over his mouth, his arms clamped down on her thighs again.  Her ankles were trapped under his biceps.  She gasped as he sucked one labia, then the other, into his mouth.  His tongue slicked over her folds.  He nuzzled her clit with his nose.  And the infernal man chuckled when she moaned.

His hands gentled on her legs, sliding to her hips.  Encouraging her to rock over him, rub herself on him.  Grind her pussy in his mouth.  He stiffened his tongue, plunging it into her again and again, and she let out a small cry.  Circling her nub with his nose.

His hand came around and spread her lips, exposing his favorite toy.  His tongue pulled out of her, flattened against her vulva.  Rubbing back and forth, up and down, grazing the pearl but never quite pressing on it.

It only took a little longer before she growled and moved herself right where he wanted her.  He fastened his mouth over the sensitive nub, and sucked.  His tongue massaged in rhythm.  He reached down to stroke himself, hard as a rock, in time with her breaths.  He didn’t stop, even as she started to moan and tremble.  Her hands grabbed his head, and she ground herself harder against his questing.

He employed his teeth, nipping gently, and she tumbled.  Hunched over, humping his face, her eyes closed and mouth wide in a silent scream as her orgasm tore through her.  Fierce satisfaction flooded her for a split second, and cut off.  "Smug.  Too smug."  Two hands steadied her, guiding her to the pillows.

She reached for him, and he captured her hands.  “Hmmm.  If you say so.  My turn.”

She hadn’t expected him to roll off the bed.  He stood, pulling her up with him.  Backing her against the vanity.  She was only confused a moment when the little bottles went flying, landing safely on the couch.  He lifted her, setting her on the surface.  Capturing her lips against his as he nudged her legs apart.  This time wasn’t gentle.  He speared her, driving deep in one stroke.  Pulled his hips back, and hilted again. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he hissed in pleasure.

He pulled her legs up around his hips, then higher.  She tightened them, and he moaned, slamming into her once more.  He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.  He leaned forward, sucking hard at the side of her throat.  “Fuck, Solas!”  She panted as he marked her shoulder as well, exquisite pleasure-pain.

“Vin, Vhenan.”  It wasn’t what she expected to hear, but she couldn’t concentrate on that.  A thin sheen of sweat covered both their bodies.  He held her hips still as he pistoned in and out.  It wasn’t long, it was a lifetime, before his movements became erratic.  He hunched over her, little grunting noises.  “Again, once more.”

He reached between their bodies, stroking her clit with his thumb.  She went easily, and he followed her.  Once, twice, and he pulled her hard against him, jerking inside her.  Breathing hard.

He dropped his forehead to her neck, kissing it gently.  He slid out of her, but didn’t move.  “Let’s go to bed, a grá.”  She ran her hand contentedly over his skin.  “It smells like you.”  She leaned her mouth to his ear.  “And you, you smell like me.”  His arms tightened around her, then let go.  They bundled into bed, and he fell into actual sleep long before she did.

She lay there a while, figuring out what to do.  And possible ways to do it.  Finally, she curled against him and drifted off.


	16. Day 2, 2 Harvestmere, 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playtime, serious time, sexy time, and statements.

###  **Day 2, 2 Harvestmere, 9:41**

She didn’t notice when he knocked.  Nor when he entered.  Her concentration was focused on the book she was reading.  Her mind was swirling with information, every so often grabbing her pen and paper, writing something down.  He watched for a few minutes before moving closer.

He walked softly after shutting the bolt.  When she set her papers down, returning her attention to the book, he gathered them and moved them away.  Her notes were clear and concise, trends in traits of protagonists and antagonists, common themes.  Smiling, he stood there a few minutes to see if she’d notice.  Nothing.

He moved the edge of her nightgown, brushing her ankle with the lace.  She absentmindedly reached down to scratch the spot, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows a moment.  Her eyes never left the book.  When he pulled the back of her slipper off, she toed off both, then resettled in a slightly different position.  Even gently calling her did nothing.

He moved a small lock of hair in front of her face.  She felt something tickle her cheek, and brushed it back impatiently.  When his shadow fell over the book, she waved a hand, and the globe of light burned brighter.  It was always interesting to play while she was distracted.

She reached a story she already knew.  The Ptarmigan.  The mountains once had a heart.  She was reading the first few lines, about Belanas peak, when fingers blocked the next word.  The book was pulled from her hands, and Solas was leaning over her.  Sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning on the arm between the back of the couch and her hips, positioned inches above her.

He smirked at her gasp.  “You concentrate so hard.”  He glanced at the pages.  “What fascinates you so about this book?”

She smiled, settling.  “I like myths and legends.  And parables and such.  If you can understand the mindset of a group, you can see what they consider good, normal, scary, bad.  Even if they’re completely made up, they mean something.”  He heard her speak, but filed the words away for later.  He was more interested in her mouth.

“Always, ma’sulahn’nehn, you are interesting.”  The book was set on the table, and he lowered his face to hers.  Settled his teeth into her bottom lip gently.  Sucked it into his mouth before letting go.

She felt him settle against her.  Legs tangling as he slid fully onto the couch.  “Hello, Solas.  How was your day?”  Her voice was breathy, her eyes already darkening as he fitted his hips to hers.  Twining her arms about his neck.  Stroking his nape.

He leaned in, gently pressing his lips against hers for a bare moment.  Pulling back, inhaling her scented breath.  “It could have been better.”

She inhaled sharply, tilting her head back as his lips trailed down her neck.  As teeth nipped her collarbone.  His tongue traced the neckline of her nightgown.  Fingers tangled in the string tying the neck, pulling through as if the knot never existed.

He nearly yanked the gown off her shoulder, tonguing the mark he’d left before.  Setting his teeth to her shoulder and biting slowly.  She struggled to get out words as he moved to her ear.  “A grá… Is there something I should know?”

He tangled his hand in the back of her hair, pulling firmly, almost hard enough to hurt.  Moving her head out of his way, letting him at the sensitive spot under her chin.  Warm, open-mouthed kisses under her jaw.  “Nothing you don’t already know, ma’lath.”

She pressed one hand to the back of his head, arching her back.  Pressing her body closer to his.  He took the opportunity to slide an arm under her, holding her to him.  She slid a toe up his calf, then wrapped her leg around his thigh.  He groaned above her, face buried in her neck, rocking himself against her hip.

She took a deep breath, moving against his chest.  Letting herself a little bit out to play.  She brushed gently against his thread, back and forth.  His response was to yank down the other side of her gown, fastening his lips in a new spot and sucking, hard.  Sensation, intense, as he pulled her tighter to him.

“Solas!”  She nearly gasped it out.  He pulled his head back, then captured her lips.  He rolled so his back was to the couch, up on his side, pulling her with him.  Kissing her, taking his time.  Letting her take over, then wresting control of the kiss back.  They were both breathing heavily when she pulled her head back.  His eyes met hers, dilated but almost calm.  Something else seethed under the surface.

His fingers lifted to trace the lines of her face.  She slid her hand along his cheek.  “Talk to me, please.”

He nearly growled his words.  And nearly whined them.  He took a breath, calming so he could speak evenly.  “Tell me, vhenan, that you are not leaving.  Belong to me, again, this night.”  There was a hint of pleading in that last.

She pulled his face toward her, kissing him gently.  “Oh, honey.  How about I belong  _ with _ you.  Because I do belong with you, for so long as we are we.”  That seething something began to settle.  “What brought this on?”

“Leliana.  I overheard.  She said you were considering leaving.  That you had to search for reasons to stay.  You stayed-”  His thread was vibrating, but there was nothing she could articulate.  He kissed her, hard.  Breaking her lips open to thrust his tongue inside.  Aggressive, for one moment.  Then pulling back.  “That you stayed only because the Inquisition arranged it.”

“Zevran.  That FINK.  And you believed it?”  The tone caught him.  Pleased him.  Her hand never stopped gently stroking his shoulder.  Which pleased him more.

He inhaled her scent, hugging her close, relaxing at the feel of her responses.  “I did not, precisely, but emotions do not always respond to knowledge.”  He trailed tiny kisses along her cheek.

She smiled, a slow, sultry thing.  He could feel her mood shift.  “A grá…” He continued to her ear, and she took the opportunity to capture his lobe in her teeth.  “Say yes.”

“Vin, asha.”  He pulled back to her mouth, dipping his tongue back around her lower lip.

She opened for him, tangling and tasting a moment.  “Do you even know what you agree to?”

He stopped short, lifting his head to look in her eyes again.  “I’m sorry?”

She chuckled low.  “Nevermind, Grohiik.  It’s nothing.”

He nipped her chin.  “I agreed to say yes.”

She smiled a slow smile.  “Hmmm.  I want to make you say it over and over.  Groaning it.”

Heat flared up, curled in her belly, as he grabbed her thigh.  Pulled her closer.  Plundered her mouth until her eyes glazed with lust and want.  Then, he sat up, pulling her along so she ended up straddling him.  Rubbing against him.  “I am not the one making those little breathy sounds, ma’nehn.”

The gown went over her head before she could blink, followed by his shirt.  A low rumbling noise was felt, but not heard, as he crushed her back to him.  Tendrils of magic wrapped around her.  Stroked her shields as his hands stroked her skin.  She responded by stroking their thread, licking with magic.

He murmured between kisses.  “Go further.  My shields.  Touch your tongue to them.”  She felt along the thread with her “tongue”, and he groaned.  His cock twitched against her abdomen, peeking from his untied trousers.

As she quested further with her magic, she reached between them with a hand, smoothing fingers over his glans.  He shuddered beneath her, shoulders trembling.  She made a pleased noise, low in her throat.  She could taste him, brandy and leather, adding to the flavor of his lips against hers.  “Oh, my, my, my.”  She murmured it against his mouth.  Touching the shape she’d found at the end of the tether, caressing it as carefully as her fingers on his skin.  “You may have made a mistake, ma’lath.”

He didn’t say anything, shoving his pants away, down.  Grasping her arms and wrapping them around his neck.  Palming the twin globes of her derriere and sliding her back to him.  Rocking her vulva against him, coating his shaft in her juices.  She moved to sheath him, and he prevented it, chuckling.

His hands slid to her breasts.  Lifted them, fingers indenting and squeezing.  She moved her fingers, caressing his ears.  Scratching at his scalp.  Then she returned to the new thing he’d shown.  He arched his back as she split her “tongue” in twain, ranging up, and down, over and around.

She took the opportunity to capture his leaky tip in just the right spot, moaning as it contacted her clit.  She leaned back, moving her hands to his knees, lifting her hips and slipping around him.  As her hips rose again, she squeezed her muscles.  His intake of breath was her reward, as she went down, then up, gripping him firmly as she went.

Their eyes met, then both sets looked down, to where they joined.  The sight of him sliding in and out, slow and steady, inch by inch, as she moved had them humming in unison.  He suddenly snatched at her arms, dropping her flat.  He’d somehow moved, and she landed on the couch.  Their bodies still connected.

He brought his head down, sliding his lips to her ear.  “No mistake, Emily Lynne.  But remember you must lie in the nest you build.”  He slid, in and out, torturously slow.  She felt his smile against her cheek when she whined.

He brought his open mouth near hers, inhaling as she sighed in bliss.  Allowing his own breath to be consumed in turn as he moved within her.  Long strokes, steady and firm, faster than before.  She felt her peak gather, and as she neared it, he slowed.  Retreated from her.  Her cry sounded sweet to his ears.  “Not yet.  Not quite yet.  You have so much further to fly.”

Again, he built the fires within her.  Stroking her skin, tasting her neck, her ears.  Gripping and biting, from each to the other.  Sliding home yet again.  Moving gradually faster.  Soaked velvet and fiery heat greeted him with every stroke.  Her hips rose to meet his.  Legs tightened about his hips.  To tease, he slowed, just a bit.  “Solas, please.”

A sinful chuckle greeted her words.  “Day, and days.”  He thrust again.  “You rush, my love.”  But he moved, reaching down and behind.  Stroking her labia with his fingers, spreading them, feeling his shaft move through her opening.  And then he added a tongue, somehow, as he went.  Teeth to gently nibble.  It was too much, and she tumbled, spasming around, under him.  “My turn.”

He lifted her ankles, bringing to them together over one shoulder as he continued to move.  Dragged a thumb across her lip even as his arm held her ass in place.  Groaning as she turned, sucking it into her mouth.  Wet slapping sounds as he sought his own release, rhythmic, then losing their rhythm as he got closer.  Until finally, he pushed enough.  Seated fully, he let out a tortured noise, flinging his head back.  Jerking as he came.

The cushions were damp with sweat and other fluids.  They both took time to allow breath to slow, hearts to slow.  Bodies to relax.  He let her legs down as he sat, still trembling.  Head back.  Eyes closed.

She crawled into his lap, curling against his chest.  “I’ll stay for as long as you do.”

His eyes opened and he looked at her.  Buried a hand in her hair and took a deep breath.  He was about to speak when she put two fingers to his mouth.  “Don’t say anything, Faolan. Please.”  His eyes darkened.  “Stop that.”

He lifted her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist.  “I will not.”  Pulled her arm closer, kissing the soft skin in the curve of her elbow.  She didn’t know which statement he was responding to.  Or both.  It didn’t really matter.  “Shall we, Haselan?  Before you reveal more than you wish?”  She nodded against him, and he lifted her.  Bedtime, and when she was rested, another taste of her.


	17. Fade Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near the beginning of Chapter 190 in the main fic. Somebody just really wanted to show off.

He was in conference with two others in an ancient grove.  Details on who was doing what next were being hashed out. At the corner of his eye, a large green python slithered into a nearby tree, coiling up and watching.  Solas glanced that way, and Contentment blinked, flicking its tongue, then settled. Waiting.

He couldn’t rush, so he completed the discussions he needed to have.  As the other two left, he turned to look at the large snake. They watched each other calmly.  “What does she need, Langour?”

Contentment slid down the tree again.  “Who says she needs anything? She is quite capable on her own.”

“She is.  To what do I owe the pleasure?  You would not be here without a reason.”

It shimmered into a humanoid form it had never shown Chrissy.  Not that she wouldn’t recognize it anyway. She never seemed to notice when it shifted form.  “Nothing urgent. I am almost certain they did not harm her.” It leaned back on the tree, relaxing and at ease.  Enjoying the tension rising in its friend. They were always so interesting to watch.

“Almost certain. You cannot tell?”

“I could, if she let me, but she says to everything there is a season.”

“This I know well.”  His eyes narrowed. “You did not ask her.  You came to me.”

“So I did. Look, or don’t.  She woke in the fade.”

“She does not always wake in the fade?”

“Her own mind, Pride.  But not today. This day, she woke.”

Contentment smiled, pleased at the sudden stillness.  It was so easy to goad others into action. A small bow, for one did not safely forget this one’s history, and it strolled off.  Solas likewise left, but he was not strolling.

Even as he took his step, he blew his scent delicately along hers.  Her scent intensified, permission, and he didn’t pause in his movement.  Her space was flooded with her, brighter and stronger, and he noted this as he reached her SELF.

As physical as they could be here, he ran his fingers over her form.  Tingling under the edge of his being where he touched. She spoke, asking him questions.  He filed the words away, but her meaning was more and less than the words. To assure himself that she was not seriously damaged, he pulled her to him.  Her scent was the same, but had an intensity previously lacking.

“You smell enchanting, da’asha. Did they harm you?”

Some part of him growled when she didn’t immediately answer properly, instead playing.  “Define they.”

He pulled his head back to look at her.  “Contentment asked me to check you over, just in case they’d hurt you.  Just in case who hurt you?”

“I’m fine.”  An answer that didn’t respond to the question.

“You cannot avoid the question forever.”

“Of course I can.”

He hadn’t wanted to do this, but he needed to know.  He pulled at her with her name. “Emily Lynne, what has Contentment upset?”

A tactical error.  She became irritated, taking him by surprise.  That it hadn’t worked… He’d have to think about that.  “Why would I know this?”

He made a noise, acknowledging his mistake.  And changed tactics. Leaning toward her, gently kissing her lips, he inquired about her day.  Perhaps that way she’d reveal the circumstances.

“Busy, scary, and weird.”

He kept his response light.  “Oh?”

She responded, but was much less relaxed than she wished to appear.  “I was harrowed today.” She continued speaking, but he was forcibly calming himself.  How dare those shadows judge her? He needed to know exactly what they’d done. If they’d damaged her, there would be quiet death in his own shadow.

He checked her for foreign scent.  All her own, nothing lingering of another.  She was herself. Brushed his cheek against hers.  He spoke too soon, unable to keep the feral edge from his tone.  “Describe this rite.”

“Excuse me?”

He cleared his throat.  A useless noise here, but it gave him time.  She was more sensitive to nuance. She would not have noticed before.  He set her on her feet, but didn’t release her.  “What does this harrowing consist of?”

She pulled his head down for another kiss, and answered him, but the answer didn’t give him the information he needed.  Taking his cue from her, he plied her ear with his tongue, hummed against her neck, as he asked how the rite began.

Her jaw tensed, and she told him to stop.  He desisted, and was rewarded with information he could use.  A font of a lyrium substance, and she had absorbed the whole thing.  He moved back to her neck. It had worked before, after all.

She shared minor tidbits, but was growing irate.  At least she didn’t eject him from her space. For the first time, she refused permission to alter it.  He couldn’t let the situation go, however. There was more at stake than she realized.

With barely another sentence, just asking about the size of the font in question, she lost her temper.  Her eyes sparked, the air rumbled with color, and she stirred unconsciously in his lap. Pulling her arms away, but not leaving.  A sense of foreboding if he were to continue, yet he was not being threatened. That she could manage that kind of subtlety pleased him.

He sucked in a breath at the almost-painful flutter of the words over his being as she upbraided him, but noted that she never attempted to leave the circle of his arms.  It reminded him of once before, when their association was new. She’d flung words, and hit with them. It said much about who she was. Words as weapons and shields.

He couldn’t help his reaction.  Her control was better, her self more secure.  Whether she liked it or not, she was changing and growing.  He brushed her cheek with his, hiding his smile. Strong enough to take her on deeper paths.  Show her pieces of the world hidden for too long.

If she was like this now, after only months, there were things he needed to prepare.  But not this night. This night was going to be spent with his little storm of a spider.  There would be few nights left before he could not easily visit.

“Consider the subject dropped.”

She blinked, startled into curiosity.  “Solas?”

He lowered his voice, wrapping it in temptation.  A hint of magic, without coercion. “Walk with me.  I won’t take you far, and will keep us to the safer paths.”  He stroked his fingers along the silk nightgown she wore, rubbing it over her hip.  She was still a touch aggravated, enough to be concerned about his change in demeanor.  “Please. I will not seek further answers.”

He stood with her, lightly setting her on her feet.  A small bow, holding out his arm. He kept his eyes on hers, daring her to take it.  She hesitated, a heartbeat, then two, before she reached for him. When her fingertips touched his sleeve, he whisked them away.

As the wind of their passage died, he watched her face.  They were in a plain courtyard. Varying paths wended from the center.  Glittering starlight, cobblestone, blanketed leaves. She looked around, not moving her feet.  Excellent. Unless you know exactly where you are, you should not.

He waved a hand gracefully.  “Which would you choose, if you were to lead?  Which path appeals to your senses? Anywhere you wish, that is where we will go.”

“What lies beyond each path?”

“That is the secret, ma’haselan’udh.  There is no way to know this. Only by placing your feet will you find out.”

“The starlight path has a delicate sound, whispering of streams and flowers.  Why does the world whisper?”

“Perhaps it is the wind?”  She wrinkled her nose at him.  He stayed impassive, waiting for her to choose.  She returned to watching the glittering stones. She had chosen, even if she did not yet realize it.  “Will you walk with me on stardust?”

“Everything is stardust.”  He smiled only with his eyes.  “Well, it is. Technically. At home.  Maybe not here. Thedas is confusing.” Her rambling was cute, and insightful.  He arched a brow, waiting. “I will, mor’ishan.”

They strolled among spirits who either ignored them or disappeared.  None dared speak. Stardust gave way to lined streets. He told her stories of the small city that had been near here.  People, and the little moments they lived. A child throwing his ball in the air. A woman sweeping a step. Ghosts of songs and lives, remembered only by spirits.

Along the path, he pulled her into an alcove.  Soothed her startled reaction. Crushed the inclination to kiss her here, in the semi-darkness.  Privacy was an illusion. For now.

“Close your eyes, haselan.  I have something I wish to show you.”  She covered her face with her hands, and he guided her over smooth stone to a long-forgotten door.  Door in the fade are not like doors elsewhere. Transitions have meaning, and what is on one side may have no bearing on the other.

They paused at the archway, the door hanging oddly.  He pushed it out of the way, pulling her by one hand.  It was here. Overgrown, surely, and not as smooth as it once was, but still here.  “Can I open my eyes?”

“Not yet.”

A few more steps had her where he wanted her.  He pulled her hand away, then stepped back so she could see.  Her eyes widened at the decrepit beauty before her. The mists drifted, sometimes thick and obscuring, and other times parting to reveal something in stark clarity.  The air was perfumed with flowers she’d never scented. Her face was well worth any danger in bringing her here.

This magic was as natural as breath.  He stretched his neck, angling his chin, as he willed enchantments long laid dormant to life.  Forgotten instruments began to play. Glowlights flickered into being, and wisps hung themselves on the ivy-covered columns.  The roof was long gone, but the floor was still polished smooth, only cracked at the edges.

The trees had forgotten precisely where the ground was supposed to be, but they were there, and content.  Some buried to the lavender leaves, and others floating in mid-air, with deep purple roots trailing down. Mosaic tiles glittered from beneath the ivy.  If she touched one, it would sing a story song of some supposed hero’s great deeds. He had no intention of letting her do so.

Over by the edge of the ballroom, a pretty waterfall still cascaded into a pool.  It was flooded with plants, the steps clogged with lillies. He watched the awe on her face as she took everything in.

“What is this place?”

“A quiet little leisure pavilion, once.”

“It’s amazing.  What must it have looked like before?”

“Far too polished.  For a time, this was fully enclosed, and there were other rooms.  The plants tame and tended. Almost a shrine, with the way they treated it.”  That last he said with a wry twist to his lip.

“Almost a shrine?”  She said it teasingly, then sobered.  “How easy it would be to let someone else decide who and what you are.  No matter what Sam says or does, there are those who will always believe him some sort of prophet or herald.”

“Leave the Inquisitor to deal with his troubles for tonight.  And escape your own.” The music swelled, and he pulled her into a dance he remembered, and she had learned.  Dance after dance, savoring her essence wrapped in his as they swirled through the mists.

Between dances, he showed her the windows.  Looking out over places near and far. This one was somewhere on the Storm Coast, and you could smell the salt air.  That one was in the middle of a slumbering forest. The odor of fall leaves and decaying matter wafted near as a single doe delicately stepped past.  Window after window, most working, at least here in the fade.

“Solas, did these windows actually go to these places?  Could one have climbed out, and found your toes in the sand?  Or are they pictures of somewhere or some idealized image created in an artists head?

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“It depended, ma’lath.  For some, the windows were as good as doors.  In the right season, you could pluck the fruit from the trees and return to dancing with the juices dripping from your fingers.  For others, they were scarce more than moving pictures on the wall.”

“That’s sad, in a way.  Yet another way to divide people, I suppose.”

“Now is not the time for such thoughts.”  He sat with her on the ledge near the pool.  She leaned her head back against him, and he savored the sensation.  He kept himself calm, for it was far too soon to safely woo in a more carnal fashion in the fade.  Even when she turned her impish face to him and placed a kiss at the edge of his jaw.

Once he took over the eluvian network, he’d be able to visit in the flesh, and evaluate the damage.  Perhaps repair it, for their use. Until then, he’d enjoy showing his love the remnants of his history.  Every reaction she had pleased him, from her laughing delight at a golden fish in the pool to the quiet contemplation when she watched the sea.

The place itself was seductive.  The next test was coming. Would she be willing to leave, or would she want to stay?  Fight to stay? He hoped she wouldn’t be seduced by the space, and that she’d find joy in it.

“It’s time, Emily Lynne.”

Her blue gold eyes met his.  “Time?”

“To go back.”

He could feel her regret as she caressed the stone bench she sat upon.  Listened to her sigh. Kept himself deliberately relaxed. Time enough to insist if it became necessary.  “Can I come back?”

“Anything is possible.”  He kept his eyes on her face, his senses alert.

“It’s so beautiful here.  And peaceful.”

“That is quite true.”

“I don’t know how to leave.”

His nonexistent breath caught a moment before he realized that she was not saying she was trapped, only that she didn’t know how to get back to herself.  “Where do you wish to go?”

“Skyhold?  Or wherever it is I am sleeping, I guess.”

“The path between those two trees starts the journey back.”

He followed her to the spot.  He would carry her back, if necessary, but it would be better for her to take that step.  For all of them.

“It’s sad we are leaving.”  She seemed to be speaking of the place, not her own emotions.

“Is it?” She poked his belly.  He’d admit he deserved it some other time.  For now, he was waiting.

She sighed again, looking back at the ruins.  One step, that was all it took, and his heart soared.  She’d been tempted, but lightly. Fully capable of leaving the tenuous safety of the pavilion.  He tangled his fingers with hers as they strolled away.

The spirits ignored them as they wended their way.  Just outside the space that was hers, he pulled her to a stop.  He locked his eyes with hers, slowly drawing up the hand he still held to his mouth.  He could tell her heart beat faster as she watched. A delicate kiss on her pulse, her scent on his, and the reverse.  That was how he intended to end the evening.

But then, her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed.  When her tongue slid unconsciously against her bottom lip, he caved.  He yanked her to him, forms flush to one another, as his lips crashed to hers.  Her tongue moved against his as it stabbed into her mouth.

He lifted her as her arms came around him.  Slid his mouth to her ear as she gasped. Raked his teeth along her neck, sucking against her skin.  Trailed his hand to cup her breast, teasing the peak. His lips returned to hers, nibbling at the edges.  She matched him, kiss for kiss, and bite for bite.  A long while later, her moans impinged his senses. Recalled to him where they were.

He set her carefully down, and she swayed against him.  She stayed in his arms until she was steady, and he stepped back.  The sun was rising, and the day to begin. He left her with a cheeky little bow.  He had a few little things to do before the Inquisitor awoke.


End file.
